'o -^7^^ A 







THE 



CITY OF THE DEAD: 



®tl)£r |)otm0. 



/ 

BY ANDREW DICKINSON. 



-7 T 



At lucre or renown let others aim ; 
I only wish to please the gentle mind, 
Whom Nature's charms inspire, and love of humankind. 

Boallie. 






1883 



SAXTON vfe MILES, 205 BROADWAY, 
1845. 






f^\^^ 



Entered according to Act of Congress, iu the year 1845, by 

ANDREW DICKINSON, 

In the Clerk's OfBce of the District Court for the Southern District of 
New-York. 



fcTEREOTYPED BY 
TURNEY & LOCKW0(fD. 



THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. 

A WRITER who leaves the safe shelter of the anonymous, 
and emerges into the open regions of avowed authorship, 
naturally desires to propitiate those whom curiosity or an 
abundance of leisure may induce to read his lines. In this 
desire, the Author of the following Poems participates. 

Some of his verses have enjoyed an ephemeral reputa- 
tation, floating for awhile upon the surface of periodical 
literature-; and having been received with favour by a few 
indulgent readers, the writer — perhaps too credulously 
trusting to the verdict of pai'tial friends — ^has collected the 
fugitives, and, having pi-efaced them by a poem of greater 
length, if not of greater merit than the rest, would launch 
ihem anew, in a form which may, after all, exempUfy his 
rashness and their frailty. 

The wish to please, rather than to shine, has been his 
motive. He has sti-iven to express simple thoughts in sim- 
ple language, not aiming at grandeur of ideas, or polish of 
diction ; ti-usting that the humility of his pretensions may 
disarm criticism, and that there may be left for him, on 
the lower slopes of Parnassus, some secluded paths in 



IV THE AUTHOR .S APOLOGY. 

which he may wander with those whose sympathy in the 
love of Nature will permit the companionship. 

He would fain hope that majiy simple but reflecting 
minds might not he displeased to see their own thoughts 
pictured in humble verse, and that with them he might 
enjoy that communion of sentiment, which should be the 
end, as it is the highest reward, of such efforts. 

To such Readei's, then, he dedicates these Poems, ori- 
ginally written amid pressing labours and absorbing cares, 
emd partly while enduring much physical suffering, as 
well as mental anxiety ; solaced, it is true, by that highest 
philosophy, and those consolations, which he has endea- 
voured to exhibit in all their atti'activeness. 

The simple merit of a truthful record of true feelings, 
not fictitious imaginmgs, is all he claims; and, if one 
responsive echo is awakened in a single mind, he will 
feel that he has not vainly touched the lyre with his 
untutored hand. 

From the scholar, and the critic, he appeals to the man 
labouring and the man suffering; from the wise and the 
mighty, to the erring and the weak : and vindicates this 
Apology, by acknowledging his presumption in seeming 
to claim the same name and calling with those mighty 
spii-its, to whom he scarcely dares look up. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

The City of the Dead, 7 

My Native Home, 14 

The Romance of Life, 20 

A Midsummer Ramble, 26 

The Village Churchyard; a Legend, . . . .31 

The Malbeny Tree, 34 

Dies Irtfi, 38 

Destruction of the Lexington, .... 42 

A Landscape of Frost, 44 

The Land of Promise, 46 

A Thunder Storm, 48 

Time, 49 

Strength in Adversity, . . .- . . .51 

The Croton Water-Works, 55 

American Scenery, ....... 56 

The Millenium, 59 

Wreck of the Mexico, 61 

" Remember Lot's Wife," . . • . . 64 

The Endless Rest, 66 

Life, 68 

End of the Worid, 72 

The Music of the Seasons, 74 

The Bible Banished 76 

The Flight of Time 77 

1» 



1845, 



On Seeing the Frost upon a Window, 

On Entering a Church of Solemn Architecture, 

Winter, 

Ode — Sung at the Dedication of a Pubhc School House, 

Ode— Fourth of July, 1836, .'.... 

Missionary Ode, 

The Organ, .... 

The New-Year, 

Elegy — Death of Rev. Dr. Milnor, 

The Aurora-Borealis, 

The Advent, .... 

Shipwreck of the Bristol, 

The Absent One, 

Missionaiy Musings, 

The Penitent, .... 

The Pastor's Return, 

The Sabbath, .... 

Woodman, Spare that Oak ! . 



April 



78 

80 

82 

83 

84 

86 

88 

90 

91 

98 

95 

97 

99 

100 

103 

104 

106 

107 



THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 



GREENWOOD CEMETERY. 

Nightfall o'er heaven now draws the dusky veil ; 
The lengthenuig hill o'ershadows all the dale ; 
And I, tlirice happy, when no foot mtrudes, 
Have sought these calm, sequester'd solitudes. 
Hail, sylvan shades ! where Zephyr gently moves 
The ti'embhng leaves o'er all the moonlit groves ! 
While o'er the treetops tall it breathes along 
In whispering sighs of melancholy song ! 
And hail, ye winding walks and lonely deUs ] 
Ye hnis, from whence the gushing fountaia wells ; 
Ye gi-aceful slopes, and gloomy forest shades ; 
Ye bowers, that skirt the ample greenwood glades; 
Ye oaks, that lift your aged ti'unks on high, 
And willows, where the brooklet gurgles by ; 
Congenial to my soul are scenes like these 
Primeval solitudes of holy peace ' 



THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 

And beautiful, at blush of summer mom, 
The waving luii-vests of luxuriant com : 
As when from Night the pristine sphere arose, 
So, lovely fair, the verdant landecajie glows; 
The woodland smiles ; and orient hues illume, 
With peerless light, an Eden in its bloom ,' 
The dazzling sunbeams through the foliage stray; 
The silvery aspens, with incessant play. 
And trembling light and shade alternate, dance; 
While, ever and anon, with lightning glance. 
Through the dense gloom, th' attenuated light, 
In livmg rays, commingles day and night. 
Touch'd by the sun, the blushing flow'rs unfold; 
The crystal dew-drops shine with borrow'd gold'. 
All things reflect their Author. Every tree, 
Leaflet, and shrub, declares the Deity ! 

Thou lake, with even Arcadian beauty fair. 
Where chesnuts tall and bending alders are ! 
Whose circling border of inverted shade, 
Clear from the grassy bank reflects each blades 
And trees, that stretch their giant arms on high, 
Shoot lengthening downward to the nether sky; 
No sounds but those th' aerial warblers wake, 
Break thy deep silence, tliou Sylvan Lake ! 



THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 

Lo! what surpassing glories greet the sight, 
As through the upland glooms I reach the height ! 
Far off, behold the mountain's azure pile ! 
In yon bright waters sits full many an isle ; 
And there the Queen of all the Western World, 
Her coimtless masts with streamers^gay unfurl'd ! 
How fair the daughter by her matron side, 
In all the beauty of terresti'ial pride ! 
Lo! Zion's towers, of glorious majesty, 
A hundred whitening spires, salute the sky ! 
There glitter villages on plain and hill, 
And many a rural, half-hid domicil ! 
Far, far along th' horizon's wat'iy plain, 
"There go the ships" upon th' Atlantic main! 
On its blue bosom gleams the swelling sail, 
From distant climes, borne by the prosperous gale ! 

At evening hour my steps shall oft retrace 
Some wandering pathway through this pensive place. 
Me oft, beneath yon willow's bending boughs. 
The moon shall witness, till wildwinds ai'ouse, 
With sudden sweep, my vnldering reverie. 
And o'er me shakes the sylvan canopy: 
What awful thoughts my soul shall then engage, 
'Mid these dim haunts of man's last pilginmage! 



10 THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 

For these lone shades I leave the world behind, 
To scan the destinies of humankind. 

How Mammon's delving sons the earth explore, 
And search, not Wisdom's pearl, but golden ore ! 
How Pleasure whirls in Folly's maddening maze, 
And to false gods supreme devotion pays ! 
Flits round her grave, with lightsome laugh and tread, 
All careless whitherward her steps are sped; 
Like some deep-slumbering wanderer on the verge 
Of gaping min that o'ei'hangs the surge ; 
Down, down she plunges the long frightful steep. 
And shrieking, sinks beneath the boisterous deep ! 

How canst thou trifle wilh the flight of time, 
And waste the golden hours of summer prime ? 
How long shall earth's vain thoughts possess thy breast? 
To di'eam of pleasure is not to be blest ! 
Why flutter on, regai-dless of thy doom ? 
Where'er thou turn'st, behold a yawning tomb ! 
Observe the emblems of each mimdane scene. 
Where all is death, though beautiful and green ! 

Slow-wandering o'er Death's kingdom, lo ! I tread 
Unopen'd gi'aves of the unnumber'd dead. 
Where thousand thousands yet unborn shall lie 
The gather'd dust of long futuritv ' 



THJE CITY OF THE DEAD. 11 

Here, at the porch of man's eternal home, 

I view, through Time's dim glass, events to come. 

Just where yon winding path the slope descends. 
A sadly slow procession downward wends : 
The sombre enti-ance to that solemn dell. 
Suits the cold echo of the funeral bell ! 
The mournful tram moves on with measur'd ti-ead,. 
O'er the new-peopled City of the Dead ! 
Haste thitherwai'd ! (yet with no step profane,) 
Behold the mourners of that tearful tra:ii ! 
Where yon dark pine-tree lifts its gloomy head. 
Beside the border of the peaceful glade, 
At their approach the iron gates unfold. 
As the last knell from yonder tower has toll'd. 
No Saviour touches the approachmg bier, 
And bids that mother dry the bitter tear ; 
Or weeps, as once he wept at Lazarus' grave, 
Jesus, the Lord omnipotent to save ; 
No Prophet's bones, with heavenly fire imbued, 
Glimmer athwart the awful solitude ! 
O vale of horrors ! shadowy forms of dread. 
Linger around these mansions of the dead ! 
Round the dark grave the weeping mourners press,, 
IVith a last look of silent, deep distress. 



12 THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 

Say, can Hope live beneath tlie cheerless ground? 

Or one ray struggle through the dark profound? 

Yes ! from the Cross a more than noonday light 

Can gild these melancholy realms of night ! 

The Man of Son'ows knows the mourner's wo, 

Aud, though unseen, hath pow'r to heal the blow. 

He speaks, who calm'd the sea's tempestuous strife, — ■ 

"I am the Resurrection and the Life!" 

He, who at midnight trodethe hallow'd wave 

Of Galilee, and from a billowy grave 

Rais'd the disciple, cheers the sinkhig soul. 

When the dark waters of affliction roll : 

Then, Faith discerns a circhiig halo spread, 

In heavenly splendour o'er that gloomy bed: 

For Christ hath died — yea ris'n! and even He 

Hath op'd the gate of immortahty ! 

Dreadless she views the place where Jesus lay, 

An earnest of the resiurection day ! 

Death and the Gravel your gloomy realm shall be 
Destroy'd, and swallow'd up in victory ! 
Though ocean's deep with human bones be strew'd. 
And earth with tombs were one vast solitude ; 
Though thrice ten thousand times ten thousand years, 
Roll onward, ere that wondrous Morn appears ; 



THK CITY OF THE DEAD. 13 

Egypt's proud pyramids oi" ancient day, 

Moulder in dim magnificence away ; 

Tombs of maguific pomp, their cofEn'd trust 

Crumbling, consign to undistingiiish'd dust; 

What though sepidchral urns, and monuments, 

With myriad myriads of earth's habitants, 

Sink for long ages in oblivious sleep, — 

O'er all the dust His eye \^ill vigil keep ! 

Sure is that word the living God hath said, 

"Thy dead shall live! — earth shall cast out the dead!" 

Then, O thou grisly Tyrant ! comes thine hour 

To bow before tliy glorious Conqueror ! 

! when th' Archangel's trump shall rend the sky, 
And Earth's great Judge descends in majesty. 
Before His face the heavens shall flee away, 
In frightful niin^ on that dismal day ! 
The dreadful blast shall cleave the ti-embhng groundy 
And the unnumber'd dead shall hear the sound I 
The gather' d miUions stand before the throne. 
Then, take an awful flight to worlds imknown ! 



MY NATIVE HOME, 



YE bright waking dreams of yoiitliful days, 
Rich as the hues the bow o'f heaven displays ! 
Backward I glance with retrospective look, 
Toward the fond home of youth, so long forsook : 
In the dim, distant vista of the past, 
I trace the shadows of what ne'er could last. 
As w^hen th' optician, through the magic glass, 
Sees heaven's unnumber'd orbs before him pass, 
Brought in unreal nearness to the view, 
While floating on the vast, siderial blue ; 
So, magnified by Hope, life's landscape gi'ows. 
Near and more near — bright and still blighter glows; 
But ah ! deceitful as th' uiconstant dyes 
Of the kaleidescope to wond'ring eyes. 

Remembrance tints the scenes I wander'd o'er, 
In long-gone years ! In fancy I explore 
The sinuous .pathway through the forest shade ; 
€limb the high hiUs, and seek the mountain glade ; 



MY NATIVE HOME. 15 

Renew the hallow' d scenes of youthful years — 

(Ah ! years, unschool'd by salutarytears !) 

Toss the green fragrant hay, or trail the rake ; 

From benduig trees the redden'd apples shake ; 

From the tall chesnut beat the pi-ickly baUs, 

And a brown-ripen'd shower down-rattling falls, 

When frost has cleaved the burs with piercing wedge, 

And dun October ting'd the hazle hedge. 

By IMem'iy prompted. Fancy pictures still 

The gi'assy grove, the bubbling crystal rill, 

Along whose verdant banks of chequer'd shade 

Ofttimes I stole, when no nide steps invade. 

With circling alders high-embosom' d round, 

A silent paradise of peace profound ! 

A mossy carpet of rich-tuited green, 

From Nature's loom, adoi-n'd the iTistic scene. 

Close by the shelving bank, in musing mood, 

Oft have I ventur'd, where the dark-deep flood 

Swept the luxuriant wUd-grass, pendant flung 

From the deceitful bank which it o'erhung: 

The golden-spotted trout I thence decoy, 

The idle ti'uant's profitless employ. 

With careless ease I stretch myself along 

The emerald bank, to muse thy rural song. 



16 MY NATIVE HOMK. 

Thomson ! whose pencil paints with matchless dye, 
Or floweiy Spring, or Summer's fervid sky ! 
Memory, the faithful shadow of the mind, 
Now follows close — now lingers fax- behind: 
But, when evok'd, this talisman reveals 
Events that shy Forgetfulness conceals : 
- Paints the clear moonlight scene, so still and bright. 
And the gay pleasures of a winter night ; 
With arrowy speed glides o'er the snow-clad ground, 
To mei-ry sleighbells' ever-jingling sound ; 
Or sees, adown yon slope, a throng of boys 
On sleds rush headlong, vdth vociferous noise : 
On the smooth pond, hard by the village mill. 
Its ponderous wheel all frozen stiff and stiU, — 
Emblem of Death ! when life's revolving wheels 
Can move no more, and its warm stream congeals ! — 
With lengthen'd icicles and frost-work rai'e. 
Ilium' d by moonbeams coldly glimmering there : 
O'er the glib ice adventurous I glide, 
While crackling round me bends the frozen tide, 
When time with silvery brightness shines the moon, 
Riding the cloudless heavens at midnight noon ! 

Ah! can I e'er forget the wintry day, 
By childish bravery urg'd, and thoughtless play, 



MY XATIVK HOM£. 17 

When down I sank 'ueatli the deceitful ice, 
And purctias'd wisdom at so dear a pi'ice ! 
Sav'd by that Pow'r, whose overruling care 
Is still attentive to a mother's prayer. 

What magic charm* invest the village green, 
E'en from afar, through Time's dim distance seen ; 
The church, the school-house, and the pond hard by, 
Where many an urchin sought the finny fiy: 
The homestead, where we gather'd roimd the iBre, 
And heai'd strange tales, that virtuous minds inspire, 
Of mnocence and beauty in distress, 
Or some lone wanderer in the wilderness ! 
The good old man, with locks all silver' d o'er 
By frosts of age — his reverend years fourscore — 
Would smile, and then the parting brands unite : 
A group close-gath'ring round the Ijright'ning light, 
Car'd not for Boreas, whistling loud and shrill. 
Or snows that drifted round the domicil. 
Full many a village legend then was told, 
Of battles, haunted towers, adventures bold : 
Thus pleasing themes would anxious care relieve 5 
And joyous pass'd the long, long winter eve ! 

Thus float Elysian forms of hectic youth, 

That live in memory, but not in truth; 
2* 



18 MY NATIVE HOME. 

But O ! uo pleasing scene of tender years 
Could ever thrill me like a mother's tears, 
As by the waiting vehicle she stood 
At parting hour, and wept the silent flood. 

Association's \vonder- working powers, 
Like specti'es, v«^ake the sliades of boyish hours ; 
And memory, like some long-forgotten dream. 
Flashes with meteor glare and startling gleam ! 
The mmnn'ring sti-eamlet gurgling o'er the stones ! 
The fitfiil v»4ud that tlu'ough the pine-ti'ee moans ! 
Through the lone gi'aveyard, as the eye, askance. 
Views the white tombstones with one fearful glance, 
With winged speed and breathless fear I fly, 
Swift as the bat that cleaves the midnight sky, 
Urg'd by the nighthawk's swoop, the watch-dog's howl, 
And dismal song of the nocturnal owl ! 
The congregated horrors of the dead 
Start forth, and fill the soul with latent dread, 
So timid fancy scares the midnight thief, 
Alarm'd at shadows, or each rustling leaf: 
Strange sights ! and sounds more horrid ! Then how still, 
As I drew near the bridge and village mill ! 



MY S'ATIVF. HOMK. 19 

Arouse ! loud cracks the thong ! swift rolls the wheel ! 
Bright shoots the spark beneath the horse's heel : 
The reddening East uplifts Night's shadowy veil; 
No more I dream — my Native Home, all hail ! 
How dark has been the night ! and yet they say, 
The darkest hour will herald in the day ! 
Lo ! through yon elm I see the tall white spire, 
Tipt with the earliest ray of solar fire ! 
Upward it points the weary pilgrim dove, 
Wide-wandermg, to his hiding-place above ! 
His Native Home, who roams the world around, 
Then soars (blest sphere!) where rest alone is found! 
O sacred Refuge from life's billowy flood. 
Thou shelt'ring Ark — Church of the living God ! 
The temple in my soul \vith heavenly rays. 
Blest Spirit ! light with holy flame ! Thy praise ! 
For ever may it rise with love's unbounded blaze! 



THE ROMANCE OE^ LIFE; 



OR, THE REWARDS OF HOPE. 
I. 

How beautiful, as from yon hill-top seen, 
Yon steeple rises the tall elms between ! 
Those village bells — mysterious minstrelsy, 
Evoke strange dreams of nameless ecstacy : 
Their soothing murmurs on the ambient air, 
Might vibrate through the bosom of Despair ! 

Mem'iy ! o'er fields aerial is thy way, 
Where thoughtful Retrospection loves to stray. 
Lo ! o'er the earth thy step and painted fonn, 
Live, though unseen, m sunshine or in storm! 
In Nova Zembla or the Indian isles, 
Here seen with frowns, there with expressive smiles! 
The truthful witness of the pleasing Past, 
And every foot-print o'er life's dreary waste. 
Mysterious talisman ! thou canst restore 
To bloom in beauteous gayety once more, 
The pictures that creative Hoj^e hath made, 
In pristine loveliness anew disylay'd ; 



THE llOMANCF. OF LIFK. 21 

Give back those forais of beatific power 

That thrill' <1 with hope in youth's extatic hour; 

Recall the scenes that chami'd with strange delight, 

And lit my pilgrim path with peerless light; 

Retouch a pleasing picture of the gi-oves, 

The holy haunts that fnh- Emiiiie loves I 

Long absent friends, though dead, once more shall speak, 

And soft caraation tuige the maiden's cheek. 

Friend of my youth! the friend belov'd so well. 

With thee once more I wind the moonlight dell, 

Clasp thee one rapturous moment to my breast. 

And (till the day-dream vanishes) am blest: 

List to the gurgle of the well-known brook ; 

Court the lone dingle and the shady nook ; 

On Schuylkill's banks, green in Hesperian pride, 

Gaze thouglitfully upon the silver tide : 

Charm'd with the Rural Muse, I stray along. 

Or wake the burning strains of sacred song. 

Thus Memory, spell-like, can restore the days 
When phantom prospects danc'd before my face ; 
Till sober thought dispels the pleasing dream, 
And I forget the dear delusive theme." 

Mysterious Hope ! with deathless zeal inspir'd, 
On wing adventurous, by fancy fir'd, 



22 THE ROMANCE OF LIFE. 

We urge with raptui^e toward some blissful goal, 

To quench the feverish ardour of the soul ! 

Illusory fonns recede, then reappear, 

Like light athwart yon cloud — now dark, now clear. 

Alluring Sybil of too trustful youth, 

Taking ofttimes the form of genuine truth, — 

Thy gilded promises are ne'er possess'd, 

And bitter disappointment is thy rest : 

Thou Delphian oracle ! thy prescience 

Is falsehood, and thy hope vain impotence ! 

But 'mid life's night, the stars of hope shall rise,- 
And beam mild influence on me from the skies : 
Star after star may sink, and dip its orb 
In midnight — and Forgetfulness absorb 
Its stellar fires, erst shining silvery bidght, 
Quench'd and gone down into the tomb of Night ! 
But, though gone down and quench'd, they reappeai 
To-morrow, in another hemisphere ! 
The pleasing glitter of their sparkling beam 
Will sportful dance on life's translucent sti'eam : 
But soon that sti-eam by raffling winds is tost; 
The trembling rays in turbid waters lost : 
For see ! they break among the dimpling waves, 
Only to gild the margin of their gi'aves ! 



THE ROMANCE, OF LIFE. 23 

So in mid-air, when Summer breezes play, 
Trembles the pensile web — then, floats away ! 
Dm-eless, inconstant ; a mere firefly's light ; 
A feeble flicker in midsummer nis:ht ! 



II. 



THE CON TRA S T. 

When on thy soul Divinity hath shin'd, 
And light pours through the chambers of thy mind, 
What heavenly visions rise before thy sight, 
As Hope, enrob'd in empyi-ean light. 
Stands beck'uing from this mundane sphere away, 
And points thee to the realms of cloudless day ! 
What love and peace, ineffably refin'd, 
Irradiate from Beatific Mind! 
Mere mtellectual joys, compar'd with these, 
Are gossamer that trembles in the breeze ! 

O dreaiy horror of the soul's deep sleep. 
Where Death and Darkness awful vigil keep ! 
When on the formless void the Light shall shine, 
And through the soid dart radiance all divine, 
Hope smiles o'er all the waste, erewhile so drear, 
And barren wilds the chaim of Eden wear ' 



24 THE ROMANCE OF LIFE. 

As when the" reahn of Chaos roll'd away 
Chased by the morning of primeval day, 
Up-springing from th' horizon's cii'chng bound, 
Gleaming athwart th' impalpable profound ; 
So, when thy light, O heavenly Truth ! hath shin'd, 
In holy dayspring o'er the darken'd mind, 
Creation opens on the rapturous view, 
Transfonn'd by Him who maketh all things new ! 
The soul, erewhile in rains, looks abroad, 
And views the kingdom of creation's God ! 
Passing all understanding, Peace and Love 
Stream down in holy radiance from above ! 

Lo ! Faith invites thee, ling'rer ! to the spheres 
Where genial skies prevail through endless years I 
Immortal soul ! let earthly joys retire, 
And to a boundless happiness aspire ! 
Arise, " what doest thou, Elijah, here," 
While plains of light ineffable appear ! 
There is a land above to be possess'd ; 
The pure in heai't shall see it, and be blest : 
With nobler raptm-e fired, let Hope arise 
To heaven, and seize the everlastmg prize ! 
Why was heaven's blue stretch'd o'er th' ethereal sea, 
Where unknown worlds roU through immensity?. 



THE ROMANCE OF LIFE, 25 

Think' St thou that Be who form'd the drops of rain, 

Made ocean, and yon shining orbs, in vaia ? 

Creation's Builder, Christ, tli' Eternal Son, 

Called all things out of Night — ''and it was done!" 

And he who out of dai-kness called the light, 

Can give the gloomier soul fai' holier sight, 

Celestial Faith reveals the Promis'd Land, 

And Hope, the boundless joys at God's right hand: 

O'er heaven's ethereal pathway, "light is sown," 

That forms the rauabow round about the throne ; 

As when, from Pisgah's summit, Moses threw 

His wond'ring vision of far-reachmg ^dew, 

The pilgi'im sees his Paradise of Rest, 

With ecstacy too big to be express'd ! 

Spirit of Holiness and Love Divine, 

May an inheritance so bright be mine ! 

Spirit of Music and of Worship, come, 

And waft me upward to the Christian's home ! 

For O ! e'en now I heai-, what seems, the strains 

Of multitudes upon the heavenly plains ! 

The chant mellifluous ! the harpers' song ! 

The myriad voices of th' unuumber'd throng ! 

They suig that song to all the world unknown, 

And cast their golden crowns before the throne! 



A MIDSUMMER RAMBLE. 

Day faintly dawns. The solitary moon 
Descends the sky. The myriads of stars 
Are fading from their hues of lustrous gold : 
Blushing Aurora flings her roseate light 
Fai' up the heavenly hills. Midsummer flowers, 
And grassy blades, with pearly moisture wet, 
Shine with pellucid lustre of the morn. 
Their green cups brimming with the dews of heaven. 

Attracted by the mountain's cooling shade, 
Whose summit blue commingles with tlie sky, 
The bubbling streamlet with elastic bound 
O'erleap'd, I press with slowly-measur'd stride, 
Onward and upward toward the sylvan height; 
Now lingering, now pursuing ; well uiteut 
To note the ummmber'd beauties of the way ; 
Lull'd by the music of the purling brook. 
Rippling so gently o'er its pebbly bed. 
Or the soft rustling of the summer wind. 
Delightful solitude ! yet converse here 



A MIPsUMMER RAMBLE. 27 

Sweetly I hold with trees, shrubs, fnilts, and flowers. 

Celestial themes are writ on eveiy leaf 

Of these fair volumes of the works of God ! 

The yellow lily, o'er the wavy grass 

Modestly bending ; there, the crimson rose ; 

And thousand flow'rets, in rich fragi-ance blent, 

A paradise in miniatui'ef unfold. 

Flowers have a speech peculiarly their own ; 
Silent, and yet not voiceless. Do the stars 
Proclaim the glories of creative skill? 
This lower world hath gems as beautiful, 
Nor less reveal their Author, even He, 
From the beginning, — Alpha is his name. 

Fain would I foUow the translucent stream, 
Placidly sliding through the pastures gi-een. 
But that I love the wildwood's bowery haunts : 
There let me w^ander, while the slumb'ring world 
Is all entranc'd with the deceitful dreams 
Of silken pleasure ; clasping phantom fonns 
Of beauty, that evanish fi-om the sight ! 
Fit emblem of the world ! And life itself, 
What is it but a waking day-dream wUd ? 

I wander, like the wald-bee on the wing, 
Tlirough lonely, unfrequented labyrinths. 



28 A MID.SU.M.MKU HA^Tin.E. 

Regardless of all ai'tiilcial pa'Jis ; 

And j)ierce the sweetbriar liedge, where the wild-rose 

In evanescent beauty blooms alone. 

Slow-rising from the quiet, verdant vale, 
The glowing scene opes wider on the view : 
The wide-spread fields of yellow, wavuig grain ; 
Far down the vale, the villa ; the blue smoke. 
High-curling from yon hill-side ; the white spire. 
Tasteful and tall, 'mid circumjacent trees, 
Relieve the mellow picture. Silence reigns ! 
Save the faint voice of husbandman, borne on 
The softly whisp' ring, lightly flutt'ring breeze; 
Or falliiig waters' melancholy swell, 
Like spirit-voices, dying on the ear ! 

But who can paint with Nature's fervid touch, 
And give the landscape its peculiar glow ? 
The mystic windows of th' ecstatic soul 
Drink in th' expanse of beauty ! It dilates 
In vast luxuriance on the mental eye, 
To panoramic splendour all divine !" 

Earth hath some bright oases since the fall : 
The garden of God, sin-sti-icken, desolate, 
Scath'd by the vengeful lightning of His wrath, 
Hath yet some choicest spots of fairest green, 



A MIDSUMMER RAMBLE. 



29 



The fra^neuts of a Paradivse destroy'd ! 
Solemn mementos of what eai'th once was. 
When blooming in prhneval loveliness : 
To promjit om* faith in what she yet may be, 
When her fair face with beauty is renew'd ! 
What if this mundane spot shall be transform'd 
To a new earth, and Paradise restor'd ; 
Earth made a heavenly, beatific sphere ! 

Emerging from wild wood's gi'ateful gloom, 
A glade bursts on the sight, so picturesque, 
I seem ti-ansported to enchanted land ! 
A gi-eenswai'd carpet overspreads the lawn, 
Of ample area, circled by dense copse, 
^Vith goodly trees embower'd, erect and tall, 
O'erhanging in a solemn, sylvan arch 
Of gothic majesty, sublimely rude ! 

But who would tempt yon wilds, by pilgrim trod 
Infrequent, on the mountain's rugged steep, 
Wliere gloomy hemlocks, and the moaning pine, 
High-arcliing, bound the dreary forest path? 
A midnight scene ! where rooks of mountain weight, 
Lie, flung precipitous from Nature's hand, 
In piles terrific ! On the dismal sceile, 

Th' aatonish'd trav'ler looks askance. Quick-rous'd 
3* 



A MIDSUMMER RAMBLi:. 

By the dread howl of the gi'im, wand' ring wolf, 
Right onward through the forest-gloom he hies ! 

Day's flaming orb over the far-oif hills, 
Flings fortli his long-drawn and life-giving beams, 
With lightning glance athwart the fervent scene : 
Nimbly the silver-frosted aspen-leaves 
Disport — all tremulous, in sylvan dance; 
As things instinct with life, that almost speak, 
While wantoning with strange, tumultuous joy ! 

Ye quire of birds, awake ! breathe soft, O winds ! 
Sweep o'er my soul, whose sympathetic chords 
Now tremble to the music of the grove ! 
Nature's mellifluous organ, whose soft thrill 
Sighs through the leaves of the ^vide-branching trees ! 
Methinks the j)astoral pipe, of reedy sound. 
Wakes from long sleep ! and dulcet hai-p and lute 
Echo from hill to hill, and through the wood ! 
The haunts where Inspiration loves to dwell, 
And sweetly prompt the poet's burning song ! 



THE VILLAGE CHURCHYARD; 

A LEGEND. 

A beautiful and interesting lady of eighteen, was buried more 

than twenty years ago, in the village of M , in Connecticut. 

From the awful developments referred to in the last stanza, no 
doubt remained of her having been buried alive ! It is well known 
to the writer, (who was present at her funeral.) that, in digging 
another grave many years afterward, in consequence of accidentally 
striking so near as to discover her body turned in a peculiar posi- 
tion, the fears which had been entertained were entirely confirmed. 

'TwAS ail aiitximnal eve: twilight's soft gleam 
Had faded; aiid the immnui'iiig Zephyi' sigh'd: 

When, by the glimmer of the moon's pale beam, 
I saw a shadowy form before me glide ! , 

It vanishes ! and the low-whisp'iing breeze 
Wafts the faint cadence of a dying sigh : 

Surely, among these glooms, o'erarch'd with trees, 
Some disembodied spirit hovers nigh! 

Lo ! other phantom forms are now array'd. 

Like Death's dread messengers, along the vale ; 

Slow they dissolve, and disappear in shade, 
Where dingy curtains overhang the dale. 



32 THE VILLAGE CHURCHYARI7. 

O Fancy ! dar'st thou linger o'er tlie scene, 

Or tempt the gloom with an adventurous tread? 

Or view those forms of superhuman mem, 
That wander o'er the Cit)- of the Dead ? 

Full oft in boyhood, on yon moonlit glade. 
My foolish fancy heard some fearful yell : 

But ah! ye solitudes of ghostly shade, 

Who shall your mystic village legend tell? 

Say, do I dream ? no such unearthly sound, 
Or sight distiu'b'd these solemn shades before, 

Till SHE was laid beneath this lonely mound, 
In beauty's pnme, in a distressful hour. 

t saw the rosy tinge on her fair cheek. 

As though theflutt'ring sj^irit hover'd near; 

The spell-bound voice was dumb — she could not speak 
I look'd and listen' d — life nor voice was there ! 

Naught could evoke her from the slumbering spell ; 

And now her spirit sighs the fearful taU^, 
As, wak'd by hollow chimes, the village bell 

Flings its wild echo on the midnight gale I 



THK VILLAGE CHURCHYARD. 33 

Lo ! now I stand beside tlie sunken mound, 
With twenty summers' gi'assy tui'f o'ergi-own, 

Since, round this sepulchre of gloom profound, 
I heard the struggling sigh, the stifled groan. 

I heard the tumbling clay, O dreaiy sound ! 

Earth fell to earth, and sprinkling dust to dust : 
They laid her form beneath the cheerless ground. 

To wait the resurrection of the just. 

Long years have roll'd since by that sainted dust, 
A mother's gi'ave was open'd near her side: 

A moulder'd coffin, faithless to its trust, 

Reveal'd, that in this narrow house she died! 



THE MULBERRY TREE. 

Luxuriant plaiit, of silken destiny! 
What magic sleeps in thy prolific leaves, 
In latent, embryo beauty ! As the eye 
Of incoi-poreal vision, with quick glance, 
Plies with keen search the scrutinizing gaze, 
Successive worlds rise on th' enchanted sight ! 
On Natm'e's page reads mysteries reveal'd: 
Sees elements that wonder-working Art 
Weaves into silken fabric of soft frame, 
And web like texture ; — the luxuriant dye 
Of Tyrian purple : the bright fiery red : 
Dame Nature's earth-clad green, of varied shades, 
Glossy and smooth : the spotless snow-white pure : 
These, and innumerous more, — all these, O plant, 
Are thine, (and if there be aught else of gi*ace,) 
Attendant round thy verdant leaflets gay ! 

O Nature ! how mysterious are thy ways ! 
The Hand that stretch' d abroad yon beauteous arch. 
Spangluig illimitable Nature's zone 
With myriad worlds on worlds, in oceans vast, 



THE MULBERRY TREE. 35 

Commingling in eternal seas of light, 

A galaxy of glorious stellar fires ! 

This God called forth each plant, and tree, and flower, 

To bright existence. And no goodlier plant 

Gracefully bends in the Favonian breeze. 

Than this tall mulbeny, in fair verdure clad ; 

Endow'd \vith vems and sinews ; and a heart, 

As might beseem to Fancy's sparkling eyC; 

Whence ^-ital sap through eveiy fibre flows, 

The living blood of vegetable life ! 

Creative wisdom is in insects seen : 
Can skill, however deft, by man display'd. 
Ever outshine the silk-worm ? His the food 
Of mulberry foliage. From th' expansive leaf 
He spins th' attenuated, silky thread, 
Minutely fine, and deHcately soft ; 
Obsen^e the progi-ess of the white cocoon, , 

Or soften'd yellow ! He prepares his tomb 
Of mausoleum gloiy ; — there he dies I 
Th' eutomb'd chiysalis, on papilio wing, 
Has cleav'd the doors sepulchral, tightly baiT'd ! 
Emblem of man, of higher destiny : 
Laborious, useful, in his brief career; 
Dies man to be ti'ansform'd, or be desti'oy'dl 



) THE MULBERRY TREE. 

He lives, when life's tempestuous toil is o'er, 

Even indestractible ! From eartli he glides. 

Emerging into everlasting life, 

On immortality's perennial plains ! 
The curious mechanism now unwinds 

The glossy silk. The spindle and the reel, 

As self-taught in dexterity, prepare 

The woofi Behold the mysteries of the loom ! 

Doth Magic here preside, with golden wand, 

And power transforming, to instnict and guide? 

What wonders are outspread before the eye ! 

The milk-white pongee kerchief's twisted woof^ 

To soothe the brow 'mid summer's fervid heat : 

The flowing robe, superb ; the mantelette 

Of fretted broidery, fibrous ; filaments 

For Beauty's slender hand, or shapely foot; 

The veil transparent, shading from the sun ; 

The green umbrella's graceful canopy ; 

Ribbons of thousand dyes, — as various 

As venial gi'ass o'er Nature's bosom spread ; 

Gold-border'd tissue from Aleppo's mart, 

Fitting luxurious vesture for some bride, 

Dispos'd with sparkling diamonds, all attir'd 

In colours snatch'd from yonder rainbow's prism f 



THE MULBERRY TREE. 2!f 

Time was when simple fig-leaves, coarsely sewn, 
Form'd all the robe that our first parents knew, 
Till coats were made to cover conscious shame : 
Now, silk is oft the ornament of sin. 

But who can number what is numberless ? 
Stranger than all, and wondrous to relate, 
Even the red lightning's awful fluid stream 
From the smooth, silky armour hai'mless glides! . 

Behold this tassel'd fi-inge, and net-work rare ! 
The gorgeous damask with bright blooming flowers, 
And birds trick'd out in golden plumage gay ; 
The royal velvet, to mvest a throne 
For mighty monarchs, as they sit in state, 
In regal purple ; or that nobler throne 
Of heavenly grace, within the dweUing-place 
Of Zion's King, whence incense-prayers arise, — • 
The pulpit, whence glad tidings are proclaim'd, 
The temple of tlie everliving God I 

Distil, ye heavens, the dew ! Ye clouds, pour down 
Refreshing drops of fertilizing rain, 
To fructify tliis plant ! and whatsoe'er 
Is good for food, or pleasant to the sight .' 
4 



DIES lUM. 

The following is a free translation of the celebrated Latin chant 
of Thomas De. C^leno, a monk of the twelfth century. His 
poem was in Latin rhyme, a style of composition peculiai' to 
his times. 

That day of wrath, — ti^emendous day ! 
(So David and the Sybil* say,) 

With whirlwind fires the woi'ld shall bum ! 
then ! what trembling wiU there be, 
When Christ descends in majesty, 

Upon the resurrection mom ! 

Witlj wondrous pow'r the trump shall sound! 
Death and the Dead it shall astound. 

And rend the tombs of every land! 
The whole creation shall arise 
To meet th' Almighty in the skies^ 

And at his dread tiibunal stand ! 



* The fabulous tradition of antiquity concerning the Sybil, was 
received as of equal authority with Scripture prophecy, in the 
dark ages. 



The mountains cleave ! volcanoes wi-eathe 
Sti'ange fires, disgorg'd from earth beneath, 

That in conflicting flames are flung: 
Affrighted Ocean heaves amain ! 
Creation travaileth in pain ! 

Heaven is with ruin overhung ! 

Lo ! in mid heavens that great white throne ! 
Nature convulsive heaves a groan i 

The Nations look in dread amaze i 
Guilt shall behold, with anguish dire, 
His eyes like fiercely flaming fire ! 

And shi-iak from the oppressive blaze ! 

'Tis Heaven's gi-eat King! tremendous Pow'r! 
Whwe canst thou fly at this dread hour? 

Where seek relief from thy distress? 
For lo ! The Crucified is come 
To fix thy everlasting doom, 

And judge the world in righteousness ! 

Earthquakes and thmiderings prevail. 
While trembling sinners weep and wail. 
To see the Book of Doom display'd ' 



40 rjiKs iR^. 

dread Remeinbraucer of Thought, 

Whence every sin to light is brought, 

To make the guilty soul afraid ! 

Wretch that I am ! what can I say, 
Or do, but humbly prostrate pray, 

And through my tears look up to thee ? 
In thee my refuge I have sought : 
At that great day, destroy me not ! — 

In boundless mercy pity me ! 

kind Redeemer ! hear my prayer ; 
Save me, that day, from black despair, 

Thou, who hadst pity on the thief: 
Thou, who didst Mary's sins forgive, 
Be merciful, and let me live, 

Though I of sinners am the chief. 

Thou, who satt'st wearied on the well ; 
Who toil'dst to save lost souls from hell ; 

Let not such ti-avail be in vain I 
Thou, who for me hast borne the cross, 
And hung thereon, (a bleeding curse,) 

O save me from eternal pain ! 



41 



A suppliant at thy holy thi'oiie, 
My guilt and wovthlessness I owe, 

And only plead that Jesus bled: 
Receive me, O thou Crucified, 
Because for sinners thou hast died. 

Eternal Judge of Quick and Dead ! 

Me absolution thou hast given ! 
Faith to my soul hath open'd heaven, 

And Mercy whispereth of grace! 
Eternal Kmg ! at that great day, 
When earth and heaven shall pass away, 

Among thy sheep give me a place ! 

When wrapp'd in flame this rolling world 
Is in one fiery i-uin hm'l'd. 

And there is no more earth and sea ; 
When to thy Kingdom Thou shalt come, 
And guilty souls receive tlieir doom, 

O then ! my God ! remember me ! 



DESTRUCTION OP THE LEXINGTON. 

January 13, 1840. 

'Tis winter! From a summit topp'd with snow, 
Behold, far off, some fated barque on fire ! 
The glare illumes the watery waste below, 
And lengthening skyward, lo ! the flames aspire ! 
Portentous sight I Now sounds arise, more dire, 
Than Fiction ever dream' d, of wild despair! 
And dying wails from that dread funeral pyre, 
Mingled with many a frantic mother's prayer. 
Float on the midnight breeze, and fill the ti-oubled air! 

Driven by the flames, now from the burning deck. 
Some headlong fling themselves in mad despair: 
On flaming fragments, some escape the wreck, 
To die ! My God ! my bosom friend is there ! 
And Beauty, straggling with dishevell'd hair! 
Some for long hours, above the watery verge. 
Cling to the guards, t' escape the scorching glare ; 
Till, one by one, to death they downward urge, 
JJo naore to rise, they sink beneath the foaming surge ! 



DESTRUCTION (IF THK LEXINGTON. 43 

All now is silence on the wintry flood : 
How cold the moon looks through a fleecy cloud ! 
Lo! in the dreary midnight solitude. 
The floating corse, woimd in an icy shi'oud ! 
Ah ! few erewhile among that cheerful crowd, 
Survive to tell the melancholy tale ; i 

How, ere pale morn, in death their comrades bow'd ; 
All but the few saved by the friendly sail, 
Driven on the wintiy coast of Southport's lonely vale. 

What though thick darkness veils Jehovah's throne, 
Searchless, frotn this terrestrial sphere below ? 
His ways are righteous, though to man unknown ; 
Unening Wisdom hath proclaim'd it so ! 
(Lesson severe for erring man to know !) 
Say, can He err who guides the rolling spheres? 
Nay ! though he slay me, I vdll bless the blow ! 
I'll worship, and with faith look through my tears, 
Beyond the bounds of Time, to Heaven's enduring years ! 



A LANDSCAPE OF FROST. 

Pencill'd with frost upon the window pane, 
Behold a niral picture, touch'd with skill, 
Wild and ai'tistic ! O'er the gelid fields. 
Imagination with enchanted gaze, 
Wanders, through hiU and dale. Illusions here 
Sparkle in silveiy frost-work, while illum'd 
By the sun's level rays. What sketchy scenes, 
As by enchantment wrought in silent night ! 

Low lie entomb' d in sepulchres of ice. 
The flowers of Summer, in their beauteous life 
Erst vivified by silent, devry showers. 
Fancy might deem the Spirit of the Plants 
Ceaseless at woi-k, when Summer flowers ai'e gone, 
Wandering with restless flight till Spring returns, 
T' invest their fonns in resurrection's bloom. 
I see what seem luxuriant spreading bowers. 
Wanting their emerald hue. There forest trees, 
Leafy and tall, o'ertop the mountain peak : 
Meandering streamlets bend along the vales, 
Grpup'd o'er with rural groves of soften'd shade. 



A. LANDSCAPE OF FROST. 45 

There is a precipice of dizzy height; 
A waterfall, that down its rugged steep, 
Tumbles with flashing foam ! And vessels ride 
Majestic, o'er the distant watery mam ! 
There is the village mill, and tapering spire : 
An abbey ftl in ruins, romid whose gates 
Stalk forms unearthly, and of dubious mein. 
Here is a palace, that would mock the touch 
Of Canaletti ! Russia's freakish Queen, 
(So lore historic runs,) a palace rear'd 
Of icy piUars ; wanting not its arch. 
And ample skylight ; nor yet chandelier 
Of dazzling splendour, to illume the walls, 
And wake th' amaze of wond'ring worshijipers ! 
A phantom emblem of ten-estrial joys, 
Imperial folly's stnicture of an hour. 

And see! e'en now, Sol's horizontal ray. 
Melts this bright picture to a trickling dew : 
By breath created, — with a breath destroy'd ! 
So, sketch'd before the vision of the mind, 
Life's dreams impalpable all fade away 
To nothing; — evanescent as the joy 
Of artless boyhood, when he views heaven's bow, 
And runs to grasp the still-receding charm ! 



THE LAND OP PROMISE. 

riiiue eyes sliall behold the land that is very far off.— IsA. xxxiii. 17, 

There is a bright country, a very far land, « 
The home of delights, by the righteous possess'd, 

Where the amaranth blooms, and whose streams, ever fann'd 
By the zephyrs of love, ai'e eternally blest. 

A land of pare fountains, w^hose glittering streams 

To the River of Life flow for ever along. 
Till it swells to an ocean of gladness, that gleams 

On the City of God, and the worshipping throng. 

A land where the Christian rests safely at last, 

From the storm of life's waste howling w^ilderness drear: 

Where the militant Church her long conflict has pass'd, 
And God from all eyes wipes away every teai*. 

The King in his beanty and glory shall lead 
His saints to the River that peacefully flows ! 

There by its green banks, the Good Shepherd will feed 
His flnck with his love, in the shades nf repose. 



THE LAND OF PROMISE. 47 

A city far off thy blest eyes may behold, 

And Zion's great King where he reigns evermore: 

Its gates of twelve pearls unto thee may unfold ; 
Thy feet yet may tread Immortality's shore. 

That city's foundations of jasper are laid, 

And sapphire: its Builder and Maker the Lord: 

Of stones of fair colours thy pillars are made, 
Thou glorious Rest of the Infinite Word I 

Fair fabric celestial ! how beauteous thy towers ! 

How lofty, amid the empyrean skies ! 
residence blest of ethereal Powers, 

Where anthems of joy shall eternally rise ! 

Thou city eternal ! with streets of pure gold, 
And rainbow of emerald circling the throne ; 

If now to thy soul they have pleasures untold, 

How rapturous, when their full glories are known ! 

Then onward, right onward ! haste thitherward, haste ! 

traveller wayworn, forget all thy woes; 
Say, what are life's sorrows, if there thou but taste 

Salvation, and joy, and eternal repose ! 



A THUNDER STOIM. 

See yon black clouds, ^y winds conflicting rent 
Rush o'er the sky, like armies militant! 
Fearfully rapid, o'er heaven's dark expanse. 
Thick sti-eams of death in fiery ruin glance ! 
Methinks the Mightiest himself draws nigh, 
Thund'ring with excellency from on high ! 
Who but th' Almighty can with thunder shake 
Th' astonish'd earth ! Now, peals tremendous break ! 
And toss'd m whitening foam, the sea, distress'd, 
Loud roars, by winds tempestuous heavenward press'd. 
"Be silent O all flesh!" fearful, adore 
The awful Power that bids the tempest roar ; 
Flings fiery arrows through the wat'ry cloud, 
Then speaks the thunder with a note more loud! 
Be still, and know that He alone is God, 
Sending his wrathful ministers abroad ; 
Unseating fi'om its finnly twisted root, 
Yon haughty oak, with furious vengeance smote. 
Terrific thunder rolls ! portentous sound ! 
Earth fears ! the forky lightnings flash around ! 



4^ 



Earth, called of old, from chaos instant sprang; 
He hurls it back; — heaven is in ruins hung! 
Faint emblem of that dark and dismal day, 
When earth, and heaven itself shall pass away ! 
Lo ! now^, th' expansive arch, hov^r dark and dread ! 
Chequer'd with living sti'eams of fiery red ! 
No death lurks in the zigzag lightning fire ; 
Unhann'd, its course capricious, we admire: 
But man, forgetful, hears Him from the sky, 
And fears Him too, when the slant lightnings fly ! 
Methinks that dreadful blast, watchword of Death, 
Has done its work, and stopp'd some mortal breath! 
The silver cord is loos'd ! — the golden bowl 
Broke at the cistei-ul* — fled the livins: soul! 



TIME. 

Time is a rapid flood's high-swelling stream, 
Rolling its mighty tide, with noiseless course ; 

Sweeping each earthly hope and pleasing dream, 
In whirling eddies, with resistless force. 

* Allusion to the death of a young woman by lightning, in Brooklyn, 
vhile at the cistern. 

5 



50 



Time is a volume, whose instructive page, 

E'en he who runs might read and understand; 

A book, whose Sybil leaves few thoughts engage. 
Though written e'en by Inspiration's hand. 

Time is a thread that bmds the soul to earth ; 

The brittle silver cord that snaps in death ! 
O say, what are all joys of mundane birth. 

When we resign them with our dying breath? 

Time is a wheel, for ever rolling round. 
Revolving, flying, gone, — yet always near ! 

Though swiftly whhiing, yet without a sound ; 
Whose cycle is a moment, day, or year ! 

Time is a dot on that revolvhig wheel, 

To mai-k the moments as they quickly fly; 

O could we, dreaming mortals ! deeply feel, 
That wheel is gliding toward eternity ! 

Time is a speck of dread eternity; 

A desert island in the boundless deep t 
On this bleak waste in life's dark, boisterous sea^ 

We sojourn but to watch, and pray, and weep. 



STRENGTH IN ADVERSITY. 51 

Time is a pendulum, a clock, a bell; 

A watchman's voice, to tell his silent flight; 
To preach — There is a heaven ! — there is a hell ! 

To warn — " The morning cometh, and the night !" 

Time is a preacher's voice, that cries, " Repent, 
And heai-ken to instruction's voice to-day : 

By faith lay hold on Him whom God hath sent : 
Thy I'efuge find in Christ withont delay!" 

Time is a I'eaper, who with sickle stands, 
To reap the harvest at the judgment day ! 

To execute the Husbandman's commands, 
Gather the wheat, and fling the chaff away ! 



STRENGTH IN ADVERSITY. 

As thy day, so shall thy streugth be. — Deut. xxxiii, 25. 

Pilgrim on life's rugged road, 

Tearful, fainting 'neath thy load, 

On thy Lord thy burden roll; 

He with strength renews thy soul: 

Hath not Jesus said to thee, 

"As thy day, thy strength shall be?" 



52 STRKNfiTH IN ADVERSITY. 

Ill the liitteriiess of grief, 
Though thy prayer find no relief; 
Bow'd, forsaken, and forlorn. 
Though thy sighs prevent the moni,- 
Tarrying long, he comes at length, 
") To revive thy fainting strength ! 



When temptation cometh in, 

With a surging flood of sin. 

And the burning biUows swell 

From the lowest deep of hell; 

O my Saviour ! say to me, 

"As thy day thy sti'ength shall be!" 

Some, distrustful of their Lord, 
Fear to lean upon his word ; 
One day, by the hand of Saul, 
They are fearful they shall fall ! 
Still that word is sweet to me : 
^* As thy day, thy strength shall be." 

Though thy Saviour long forbear. 
He will hear his people's prayer.' 
What though he, when sorrowing sought, 
Make as though he heard thee not? 



STRENGTH IN ADVKR.SITY. 53 

Watch, aiitl without ceasing pray, 
That thy sti'eu^^h be as tiiy day. 

What though his approach be late? 

It is good on God to wait: 

He will prove his promise true, 

By his gifts, — not small, nor few ; 

His salvation thou shalt see : 

"As thy day, thy strength shall be." 

When wildwiuds thy vessel sweep 
O'er the dreaiy, boisterous deep, 
And thy prostrate sti-ength shall fail, 
As she drives before the gale ; 
Then cry mightily, and say, 
"Let my strength be as my day !" 

Dark may be thy midnight hour. 
With Death's shadow cover'd o'er; 
Yet, how dreai- soe'er the night, 
God hath said, " Let there be light !" 
Jesus can, if thou wilt pray, 
Turn thy darkness into day. 

Ai't thou tempted oft to say, 
God with thorns hath hedg'd my way ! 
5* 



64 STRENGTH IN ADVERSITY. 

^ Dost thou sit alone and weep? 
/ Doth thy heart sad vigil keep ? 

Weeping may endiu-e a night ; 

Joy shall come with morning light. 

As thy people once were fed 
With the heaven-descended bread. 
Feed me thus in righteousness, 
In life's gloomy wilderness ; 
And, when fainting by the way. 
Let my strength be as my day. 

O thou comfortless and tost. 
In thy Saviour put thy trust! 
Lo ! the dayspring from on high, 
Speaks thy great Deliverer nigh ! 
" Leave thy fatherless to me ; — 
"As thy day, thy strength shall be !" 

Oh ! when Death, with iron blow, 
Strikes some dearly lov'd one low; 
Vale of shadows ! though Despair 
Walk in mournful silence there. 
Light in darkness thou may'st see ; 
" As thy day, thy strength shall be S" 



THE CROTON WATER-WORKS. 

Hail! queen of cities! the resplendent star, 
Whose gloiy gilds our Western hemisphere ! 
For Commerce, Arts, and Industiy renown'd, 
Whose masts, like countless forest ti'ees abound ! 
What wonders cannot well-directed Art 
Achieve? A wilderness becomes a mart; 
And o'er the trackless desert, once so drear, 
Cities, and snorting steeds of fire appear ! 
Mountains dissolve into a fruitful field ; 
And barren vales redundant harvests yield. 

What talismanic wonders have been wrought, 
By Science deft, to nice perfection brought! 
Say, on what page of the historic tome. 
E'en in the days of proud, imperial Rome, 
Lives there a work so grand, that it might vie 
With our great Wonder of posterity ? 

Blood to the body nourishment supplies. 
And through the irame impetuously flies: 
From the heart's reservoir it leaps away; 
Through aqueducts the crimson fountains play: 



66 THE j::rotox watkr-works. 

So, through the Ci'otou Aqueduct, flows down 
Its limpid life-stream, through our mighty town! 

What art thou, O thou mountain, to withstand? 
Remove! or be thou pierc'd at our command! 
E'en obstacles most fonnidable, are vain : 
Forth goes the word ! yon mountain is a plain ! 
And now, o'er hill and dale, the Ci'oton pours 
Its healthful fountain to your very doors ; 
Beneath you rush ten thousand crystal springs, 
Anon up-bursting, wliere some Fountain flings, 
Skyward, in forceful jets, the sparkling spray, 
Sportively dancing on the noontide ray ! 

At such a sight Intemperance stands aghast, 
i And wonders if these watery times will last! 
Yes ! while the earth remains, these sti-eams shall flow ! 
I What richer earthly boon could Providfence bestow! 



AMERICAN SCENERY. 

Hark! 'tis the bugle, warbling loud and clear. 
Echoing from hiU to hill, tln-ough vales and woods. 
All richly vested in Autumnal brown. 
High chanted praise from E;n-th's great orchestra. 



AMRRICAN SCENERY. 57 

Should rise to Heaven upon a mora like this. 

When Nature seems in primal bloom renew'd. 

Did e'er Heaven's curse o'erhang such beauteous vales? 

Can Scotia's Highlands, or proud Rhine's green banks, 
Vie with these sylvan heights, and rocky peaks. 
That fringe majestic Hudson's rolling flood ? 
Here cascades, thundering, dash with fury down, 
In milk-white foam, into their parent stream, 
From dizzy cliffs, piled frightful to the sky, 
In grand disorder ! Turn to yon bright scene 
Of emerald, like the undulating swell 
Of ocean biUows ! yonder dimpled vales ! 
These are the fields, where our forefathers trod 
With blood-stain'd footsteps ! Sacred be the breeze 
That ceaseless fans these consecrated plains ! 

Swift flies the landscape ; while our vessel glides, 
With scarce a wave, o'er the ti'anslucent stream, 
Reflecting every object. Not a sound 
Disturbs the music of the rippling tide: 
No rattling wheels, with revolution swift, 
Furiously whirl me through receding woods ! 
The sinuous sti-eam wuids through the peaceful vale ; 
Now hides beyond a hill, or shady grove, 
But soon emerges, sparkling in the sun. 



53 AMKRICAN ;-Cfc;XKRT. 

See ; on the bosom of yon shining lake, 
The lily, claJ in snow-white petals, floats, 
Securely anchor'd 'mid its glossy leaves: 
The momitain-side, dotted with grazing herds : 
There "little hills rejoice on every side ;" 
And valleys laugh and sing with fruitful corn ; 
From yonder vale the farm-house smoke ascends, 
O'ertoppuig e'en the towering mountain's crest. 
Curling in azure pillars to the sky ! 

Still onward, Herkimer's rude rocks, high-pil'd, 
Retire before Improvement's magic power. 
Immortal Clinton ! mountains disappear 
To form a limpid path, where vessels soar. 
As w^hen they rise upon the mountain wave. 
And then descend into the watery vale. 
Here forests wav'd erewhile. Now, Commerce build* 
Her stores, of wondrous height, like Babel's tower ; 
Nor less confusion roars around her marts. 
Hence we wind on through yonder dai-ksome wood. 
Where emerald isles, romantic prospect ! deck 
The placid lake, where the gray mist ascends. 

'Tis midnight! and the moon, mild Queen of Night, 
Illumes the forest with her gentle beams. 
All now is voiceless, save the bugle strain, 



THK Mll.T.r.NiU.M. 59 

Like the moon's mellow light, soft, sweetly clear; 

And I, like him whose pillow wiis the stone, 

Adventurous, seeking melancholy rest, 

In silence muse ! " How dreadful is this place! 

This is none other than the house of God !" 

Earth is the altar of His temple vast, 

Whose wide-spread canopy is heaven's blue arch ! 



THE MILlENIUM. 

See Sion's light-crown'd towers, 

The city of our God; 
Sharon's sweet rose thei'e flowers 

Around that bless'd abode : 
See fruitful com, thick-blending. 

In waving hai'vest pride, 
With golden gloiy bending 

Along the mountain side. 

Christ's glorious Church shall flourish 
" Like grass upon the eai-th;" 

A Shepherd King shall nourish 
His flocks, and lead them forth 



60 



THE MILLENIUM. 

To diink of living fountains 
Where ciystal waters fall ; 

His voice upon the mountains 
Shall echo to his call. 

He rules in love for ever 

The new-created earth, 
To farthest arctic river 

That bounds the polar north ; 
He rules the boundless ocean, 

Let distant isles I'ejoice ; 
One song of pure devotion 

All hearts and tongues employs 

All kings shall kneel before him; 

All nations at his throne, 
In concourse vast adore him, 

In beauty all his own ; 
And music, sweetly soimding, 

Like heavenly harps above. 
Shall thriU all heai'ts, abounding 

With blessedness and love ! 



WRECK OF THE MEXICO. 

ON HEMPSTEAD BEACH, JANUARY 1, 1837. 

The last December sun on Hempstead beach, 
Had sunk beneath th' horizon, cold and dim : 
The boisterous waste, far as the sight can reach, 
Look'd cheerless through the drear aud wintiy gleam: 
Giiifif blew the winds ; the black'ning skies were grim, 
Heralding in the black, tempestuous night: 
The ocean chanted forth a vesper hymn ; 
When an ill-fated barque upon the sight, 
Reveal'd its glimmering sail through the expiring light. 

Why need ye lift the signal of distress? 
It brings no answer, — friendly succour, none ! — 
And hark ! — what gloomy sounds of wo I hear. 
Booming along the deep ; — the minute-gun ! 
Ocean rolls heavily the thundering stun, 
In sudden surges on the rising gale, 
Chill as the dreary ocean horizon. 
Where vision scarce can reach that pilgrim sail; 
Sad scene of shipwreck'd hopes, and many a tearful tale. 



62 WRliCK oy THK MK.XICO. 

O bitterness of death ! wlieu black Despair 
Seizes on parent, youth, and infant meek! 
Hungiy, beuumb'd with cold, behold them there. 
With frozen tears upon their pallid cheek : 
What maddening eloquence of wo they speak .' 
Those lov'd ones, too, clasp'd in each other's arms, 
A grave together in the deep to seek I 
O holy Nature ! such thy beauteous charms ! 
Lovely in death they lie, safe from his dread alarms ! 

Uathoughtful of th' impendhig danger nigh, 
The treacherous night rules their sad destiny ; 
That fatal beach they strike, where they imist die : 
Death gi'isly yawns ! his frown they may not flee I 
(In death's dread hour, O Lord, remember me !) 
In shrouds of ice, the freezing statues stand; 
Erst blithe with Hope, elate, from sorrow free ; 
Near the fair Paradise of Freedom's Land ! 
.\h! soon their stiffen' d forms will strew yon ocean strand! 

O ! there is One, of mighty power to save. 
Who still'd Gennesaret's tempestuous sea ! 
He speeds the gallant Raynor, boldly brave. 
Eight souls from Death's terrific jaws to free, 
The few that 'scap'd of that vast family : 



VVRKCIC OF THK MEXICO. 6? 

These ride ti-iiimpliant on the boisterous deep, 
O'er mountain waves of frightful majesty ! 
But O ! for those in ocean doom'd to sleep, 
Th' historic Muse the tear to latest time shall weep ! 

Portentive hour ! Hope, angel-wing'd, flits nigh ! 
They view with keen delight the happy shore ! 
All heai'ts now beat with expectation high. 
And their unutterable griefs are o'er ! 
Heaven's everlasting mercies they adore ! — 
Vam hope ! Yon sinking sun no more they view : 
For who would tempt at night wild Ocean's roar? 
The fearful conflict with the flood renew ? 
Lo ! ill extatic gi'ief, to Hope they bid adieu ! 

Ah! who can tell the melancholy taJe? 
Whose hai-p shall chant the funeral obsequies 
Of those who lie eutomb'd in Hempstead's dale? 
Ye groaning wintry winds, and ocean breeze, 
Groan gloomily the dirge among the ti'ees ! 
Fit organ for a death-song's mournful sound; 
Dread music, the ethereal soul to freeze ! 
No more ! Sweet be their rest 'neath yonder mound, 
Till the Archangel's voice shall rend Death's cjuves pro- 
found ! 



"REMEMBER LOT'S WIFE." 

Two Angels came, 
At eve, to Sodom : ministers of wrath 
To all its guilty denizens. To Lot, 
His wife, and daughters, messengers of grace. 
While lingering still, with unconsenting hearts, 
At early dawu, the urgent Angel spake : 
" Up, get ye from this place ! 'Scape for your lives 
'' To yonder mountain ! Flee these wicked plains ! 
" Look, look not backward, lest ye be consum'd 
" By Heaven's devouring fire !" 

They hasten'd on, 
Ere the sun shone through the empurpled haze : 
'Twas such a morn as gilds the orient hills 
In genial springtide. Lot's companion gaz'd 
O'er all those lovely and far-spreading plains 
Of swelling Jordan, whose irriguous flood 
Gave green luxuriance to Sodom's vale, 
Her seat of disappointed quietude, 
Wealth, and luxurious ease. 

She turn'd one look, 
And heav'd one sigh of deep solicitude ! 



REMKMBKH I.Ot's WIKK. 65 

Ah ! greenest sunlit vales not always yield 
Purest repose. Eden, thy tempting tree ! 
Sodom thy bitter apples ! to the sight, 
Though beautiful, yet ashes to the taste ! 

O sinful glance of curiosity, 
Folly, iugi'atitude, and vain regret! 
Of disappointed hope, and worldly care ! 
Strange disobedience, and unbelief! 
She look'd, — and she was lost! Her soul refus'd ' 
To move the sinews. She was petrified, 
Curs'd into marble! There the ruin stood. 
For long, long generations yet to come, 
A monumental pillar of His wrath ! 

Then fell from heaven a deluge of red flame 
Sulphureous. Soon thick-dark' ning clouds obscur'd 
The vale of Sodom : and naught else remain'd, 
But one wide desolation: a vast sea 
Of blazing sulphur ! 



THE ENDLESS REST. 



This peaceful^ holy stillness round, 
Foreshadows endless peace profound, 

The Rest beyond the sky: 
Light, air, and the soft summer wind 
Scarce ruflBiag the smooth lake, remind 

The soul of peace on high. 

glorious daylight of the soul! 
Perpetual may thy pleasures roU 

Through my extatic breast ! 
Too feeble words no utterance find: 
Dumb is expression, while the mind 

Admires this glorious Rest. 

Blest Spirit! on this cloudless day, 
Shine inward with far brighter day 

Than earth's material sun: 
Rise, Sun of Righteousness, on me ! 
So shall this heart, relum'd by thee, 

Approach thy shining throne. 



THE EXBLESS TIKST. 67 

An op'ning heaven salutes my eyes.; 
Thillier my heai-t with rapture flies, 

Quicit as the fleeting thought, 
To amaranthine plains and streams. 
And the wide sea of glass that gleams, 

With heavenly brightness fraught. 

Blest Spirit Land ! thy genial skies, 
Above created good I prize ! 

How gladly I'll forego, 
For an inheritance of bliss, 
All eartlily dreams of happiness. 

In this dark sphere below. 

Music in streams mellifluous there, 
Trembles along th' ethereal an-, 

And hUls give back the sti-ains: 
The atmosphere is peace and love ; 
Praise roUs in incense-clouds, that move 

O'er the eternal plains ' 

Anthems of everlasting love 
Thrill the bright spirit realm above ; 
And waves of peace divine, 



Swell into rivers of delight; 
While hills on the enraptur'd sight 
In heavenly landscape ehine. 

Up to this Paradise of God, 

Haste, haste, my soul ! 'tis the abode 

Prepar'd for thee above ! 
With grace unspeakable and fair, 
Jesus, the King of Peace is there, 

To feast thee with his love ! ' 



LIFE. 

What is your life ? What but a transient shade ? 

A vapoury mist, blown by fierce winds away? 
The glass's ninning sands? A scene display'd, 

Shifting, abiding never in one stay? 

Life is a pleasing phantom, some vain dream, 
Hov'rmg in silence round the slumb'ring soul, 

Till startled by the lightning's lurid gleam ; 
Arous'd by thunders that above thee roll:! 



LIFE. 69 

Life is the joyous joiiraey of a day, 

O'er vernal landscapes, wliere bright flow'rets blocm; 
Till, wand'ring onwai'd, far from home away, 

Lost in some di-eary forest's midnight gloom. 

Life is a bud, as its soft leaves uufold 

To the warm genial ray, in beauteous hue; 

But see ! it droops in tliQ untimely cold, 
Like infant days, how evil, and how few '. 

Life is a barque, borne by the gentle gale, 

Freighted with hopes, to some far-distant clime : 

Lo ! prosperous winds now fill the swelling sail ; 
Onward it glides down the smooth stream of time ! 

Life is that barque upon the boisterous sea, 

Dash'd by the billows toward some frowning coast 

,0f dang'rous rocks; till, urging on the lee. 
The plunging vessol strikes, — and all is lost! 

Life is a roarmg flood, that onward rolls 

To the eternal, boundless ocean main, 
Sweeping along innumerable souls 

That ne'er return upon its tide again ! 



70 



Life is the pendant gossamer; — how frail! 

Broke by the ruffling wind that o'er it plays: 
Type of the ills that human life assail; 

The faithful moral of our mourning days. 

Life is a summer sky, sei-ene at mom ; 

At noon, with clouds of sad portent o'erhung, 
Driven by the roaring winds, — by lightning torn, 

All in wild ruin and confusion flung. 

As wildwinds sweep o'er the dark, murm'ring flood, 
Successive waves pursue each dying w^ave ; 

So a vain world seeks an illusive good, 
Careering down to the oblivious grave ! 

II. 

Life is the blade, the ear, the golden com: 

The wind thou hear'st, whose course cannot be known : 

'Tis of th' Eternal Spirit to be born ; 

His living breath o'er the Dead Valley blown. 

Life is to be with heavenly manna fed; 

To purge thy dross, as with a living coal. 
Life is a resaiTection from the dead; 

The breath of God, breath'd o'er th*^ siniier's soul! 



71 



Life is a union with the Living vine ; 

A daily walk by humble faith with God, 
When on the soul he makes his face to shine, 

And sheds his Spirit in the heart abroad. 

Life is a saving knowledge of the Lord ; 
I To hear the voice that calls us to repent ; 
With meekness to receive th' engrafted word ; 
Believe on Him whom God the Father sent. 

Life is the dying sinner's day of grace, 
One fleeting hour, eternal life to win; 

An hour to seek the Saviour's glorious face : 
O ! strive at the straight gate to enter in ! 

Life is the respite of thy dying soul; 

Th' appointed time to run the Christian race 
Before thee set, and heaven itself the goal, 

Looking to Jesus for the promis'd grace. 

Life is to sow in tears, — thy heart to rend ; 

To know the power of the life-giving word ; 
That peace no mortal thought can comprehend ; 

A glorious rest for ever with the Lord! 



72 END OF THE WORLD. 

Haste o'er Destruction's plains! haste away; 

Escape the tempest gath'ring o'er thy head! 
The Vale of Sorrow leads to endless day, — 

Why seek ye here the living 'mong the dead? 



END OP THE WORLD. 

Change, change, is stamp'd on all things here below, 
A truth though trite, yet one few seem to know. 
The sad mutations of this transient state, 
'Twere wisdom ofttimes to anticipate; 
Yet, though vain man would be divinely v^se, 
And know all mysteries of the upper skies, 
A brighter Light must burst upon his mind. 
Whose brightness strikes proud Reason's eyesight blind 1 

From the beginning, since gray Time begun, 
The earth has kept its circuit round the sun: ■ 
Its annual track of wide circumference, 
Appointed by Eternal Providence, 
Betokens wisdom, order, — all things plann'd; 
A truth the skeptic ne'er can understand. 
Well ; if the Power that made the spheres above, 
Be the Almighty, and a God of Love, 



KND OF THK WOHl.t). 73 

It is enough for purbliud man to know, 
That He will cai'e for this small orb below ! 

Whether earth's annual or diurnal course 
Derives from God, or independent force, 
None but a fool can ever be deceiv'd ; 
From God its impetus was first receiv'd ! 
Was there a Power before the First Great Cause, 
Who gave the earth and heav'ns their fixed laws? 
He, who all Nature and the stars controls. 
Who fix'd earth's orbit, and decreed the poles, 
Will He desert it ere the secret hour, 
Fix'd for the fire of purifying power? 

Who has not view'd, at eve, the wondrous sight, 
Shedding sti-ange ten'ors o'er the dismal night, 
The Comet huge, most like a flaming brand, 
O'erhanging, ominous, th' affrighted land? 
Some tliought the sight an awful prophecy, 
Portentive that earth's doom was drawing nigh! 
'Tis neither wi.^e to dread, nor yet to laugh ; 
Nor join with Infidelity the scofF. 
Behold, all things are written iu His hook ! 
For revelations new, yu need not look. 
Six thousand circling years have roU'd away ; 
Springtide and summer, winter, night -.md day, 



74 THE MUSIC OF THE SEASONS. 

Seed-time and harvest have fulfill'd the past, 
And shall the future, — while the earth shall last. 
Some seem to fear a Comet's flaming tail 
"WiU earth, and all their worldly hopes assail: 
I hope 'twill keep on its celestial road, 
And you'll forgive this rambling episode f 



THE MUSIC OF THE SEASONS. 

Ye birds ! in Sprmgtide, on aerial wing, 
That tuneful rise to the cenilean sky ; 
Learn me your upward flight ! and how to sing 
The joyous song of chasten'd minstrelsy ! 
To Spring's mild realm of green, that blooms on high, 
(Unlike the fading verdure of the earth, ) 
Though my frail form low in the ground may lie, 
Lo ! it shall spring into celestial birth, 
And join th' ethereal quire that pours blest anthems forth 

Summer ! thy music, with mellifluous swell, 

On my rapt ear symphonious doth pour, 

In sweeter tones than stammering tongue can tell, 

In pleasing rills my spirit stealing o'er : 

So Bweet, th' extatic soul can bear no more ! 



THE MUSIC OF THE SEASONS. 75 

List ! fading sounds, like dying tlaunders, x-oU ! 
Winds softly languish on the sounding shore ! 
And munn'ring waterfalls entrance the soul, 
What time the moonbeams gild the hill-side's grassy knoll. 

Autumn ! I feel thy deep, mysterious power. 
Thy low, spell-whisper in the twilight breeze ! 
In Meditation's calmly solemn hour. 
The diapason swells amid the trees ! 
Too well I know thy mournful sympathies ! 
When breath iEolian stirs the trembling wood 
With murm'ring sighs, what dulcet strains are these ! 
Oft let me muse in sylvan soUtude, 
Beneath some shadov/y pine, beside the dark-deep flood. 

There's solemn music to the pensive ear, 
O hoaiy Winter ! in thy roaring blast! 
E'en when blealc Caunis' icy cheeks appear 
Distent with whistling winds, that i*ush full fast, 
IMost melancholy charms to me thou hast. 
At midnight, 'neath the roof, when howls the storm, 
And burden' d winds drive furiously past, 
On my lone wintry couch, O pleasing charm ! 
I bless the roaring storm, secure from all alarm. 



■ THE BIBLE BANISHED. 

Thk Bible, l):uiish'J from our Public Schools, 
Woxilil mnke our youth a race of arrant fools. 
*Tis true that they miglit cyjiher, read, and write, 
But they might also learn to counterfeit! 
With ^vonderful adroitness forge a check ; 
Or murder, on some pirate vessel's deck. 
At the yard-arm yield up their sinful breath. 
And expiate some hell-born plot in death. 

The beauteous structure our forefathers rear'd ; 
The glorious light by which its fane is cheer'd; 
The conier-stone, cemented strong with blood, 
On which, erewhile, tluit stately temple stood, 
All, all would fail ; and ah unsightly mass 
Of ruin fi-ight all travellers that pass ! 
O Liberty ! thy sun no more would rise. 
To cheer the pathway of the virtuous wise ; 
But the wild hori'ors of Cimmerian night, 
And Superstition, w^ould the soul affright .' 
As when some stately barque, by traitorous hands. 
Sent all adrift upon deceitful sands. 
If the sheet-anchor of her hope be lost. 
Mow will lliat fated li-.u-niif lie driv'n nnd tost! 



THE FLIGHT OF TIME. 



77 



Unless some skilful pilot seize the helm, 

A dismal min will that ship o'erwhelra. 

But no ! it cannot be ! there must be souls 

To buoy and guide her o'er the dang'rous shoala. 

Friends of the Truth ! your patriotic cause 
Shall meet, ere long, a nation's glad applause ; 
A cause maintain' d through ti-ib illation's fires, 
By Freemen bold, — (peace to those patiiot sires!) 
They stood the shock and thimder of red war, 
Whose clangour fierce spread terror wide and far ! 
Ah ! little thought they that their sons would close 
So soon in struggle with the Bible's foes. 
The question must be settled, it would seem, 
Or Liberty wiU prove to be a dream: 
But let us settle it without hard knocks. 
With paper bullets, at the ballot-box ! 



THE FLIGHT OF TIME. 

Hear'st thou that voice that sounds along the Past' 
" A. year is gone !" as, on the wmtiy blast. 
In moiu-nful cadence dies the murm'ring strain, 
By dirging winds bonie to Ik' eternal main. 



3 ON PKKIXr. THK FROST UPON" A WINllOW. 

Lo ! Timo, on whitry c1(»ik1s. in swifl career, 

Proclaiins tl<e advent of" 1:lie rolling Year ! 

Beneath him whirl the wheels that flash strange light, 

Trailing in glorious histre o'er the Night! 

He comes, in annual pomp, from climes unknowai. 

Down heaven's high steep, on an aerial throne: 

O'er all the skies diverging, flames afar 

A radiance that dims the morning-star ! 

The swift-wing'd Hours come dowii the midnight sky, 

Then sink into their own eternity: 

While hoaiy Time, approaching, present, gone, 

In noiseless sullenuess, hies swiftly on ! 

Lo ! his reflected light brings up to view. 

All our young years, in tints of fadeless hue ! 

Yet on the isthmus of the passing year, 

The sinking footfall feels it disappear! 



ON SEEING THE FROST UPON A WINDOW, 

Apt emblems these of all the fairy schemes 
Of restless mortals, building on the air 
Beautiful forms of unsubstantial things! 
Sec ! citir.^-. churches. vii];i<ies are skclch'd 



ox SKEING THE FRO>T UPON A WTXDOW. 

In rural beauty and majestic pride ! 

Steeples, and minarets, and forest trees, 

Amid embowering mountain-woods appear. 

Here glittering landscapes sti-etcli in prospect wide; 

ilountoins and vales, and huge o'erhanging cliffs ; 

Castles and obelisks, and shady groves ! 

A wild creation ! Nature starts anew 

To green existence. Palaces are here, 

Whose crystal walls surpass the Russian Queen's 

In fairy splendour. Evanescent all, 

'Tis true; but quite as useful, durable as hers. 

There leafy forests wave, whose sylvan forms 

Defy e'en the most deft, artistic touch 

Of pencil; baffling all poetic power; 

Wanting bnt living green to cheat the sight, 

And make th" illusion perfect. Sti-etching far, 

Is seen even old Ocean, with its ships 

Hiding in stalely pomp and grandeur o'er 

Its frosty surface. Rivulets and pools, 

And glassy lakes, bedeck the distant plains; 

As though Enchantment vied v.-ilh mimic Art, 

T' excel e'en Nature's pencil. Rising high. 

As if t' attract the Wanderer, stands tlie Cross, 

All boauteo'i^, towcriiii: u^ion a moiinti 



80 ON ENTERING A CHURCH 

All else but this are images and cli-eams; 
The rising sun of morn shines lovely lair, 
But melts them all away. Adown the stream 
Of Time they rush, and to the Ocean pool, 
Eternity's broad sea, they quickly pass, 
Like "the swift ships!" 



ON ENTERING A CHURCH OP SOLEMN 
ARCHITECTURE. 

How fair is Sion's holy gi-ound, 

Calm seat of rest for pilgrim souls ! 
No flaming tempest rages round; 

No Sinai's dreadful thunder rolls. 

The Patriarch from his midnight dream 

Awoke on Haran's lonely ground, 
Scarce lit by starlight's glimmering beam, 

Trembling along the gloom profound. 

The spacious temple of the Lord 

Was earth, — its roof, the boundless sky, 

What time the everlasting Word 
In solemn darkness hover'd nigh. 



OF >.)I.1:;M.V ARCMITKCTTRK. 81 

The way-worn pilgi-im pour'd his prayer; 

All desolalc, his soul was riven, 
But lo ! the Angel " bless'd him there," 

And Bethel vras the gate of heaven. 

" Why should despair o'erwhelm thy soul? 

" I am thy succour in distress ; 
" On me thy weight of sorrows roll, 

"Thy God shall all thy wTongs i-edress!" 

God in his holy temple dwells ; 

That awful Name recorded high. 
His might and omnipresence tells. 

His glorious grace and majesty. 

Lord God of Love ! within thine house, 
Praise like an incense-cloud shall I'ise, 

And mingling prayers, and tears, and vows, 
Perfume thy palace in the skies ! 

Attune your strains, ye raptur'd quire. 

And to the swelling organ sing ! 
Burst forth in psalms of heavenly fire, 

To heaven and Nature's awful King ! 



O day of all the circling seven, 

Happiest ! when the symphonious hymn 
Gladdens this palace-gate of heaven, 

As with the hai'ps of Seraphim ! 

Here let me in Gcd's temple hend, 
And humbly seek his gloi'ious face ; 

So shall his promis'd peace descend ; 
Salvation's wells o'ei-flow with srace ! 



WINTER. 

O Winter! seated on a throne of ice. 
Robing thy domain in a snowy guise ; 
Stern King ! some few may make thee welcome here, 
But all will gladly see tliee — disappear ! 
Cold, blust'ring, and ungenial as thou art. 
Who would not be right glad from thee to part? 
Yet good there is in thee ! — thy reign, when o'er, 
Will make us prize the genial Spring the more. 
If thou wilt hold with us thine icy court, 
Come on ! — but let thy rigorous i-eign be short ! 



ODE, 

SUNG AT THE DEDICATION OF THE PUBLIC SCHOOL-HOUSE, 
VVILLIAJISBURGH, L. I., DECEMBER, 1843. 

Spirit of Knowledge! by thy light, 

The Mind, all uninform'd, and rude. 
Rises from Ignorance and Night, 

Beauteous, and bright, and "very good." 

Here let thy genial power be shed. 
To make the seeds of Wisdom grow ; 

For, by thy heavenly radiance led. 
The soul itself attains to know. 

Kind Providence ! we bless the care, 
Knowledge for all that dolh provide: 

Thy Goodness makes us what we are, 
And none Instniction ai*e denied. 

Th' upshapen mass, by plastic grace, 

Shall grow, and polish, and refine ; 
Till, fitted for its destin'd place^ 

A pillar glorious to shine ! 



84 <)Dl:;....K(i(JRTlI Uf JULY. 

By sparlding crowus, the soul, iaispir'd, 
Shall run with zeal in V/isdom's way : 

E'en sluggish Mind shall wake, new-fir'd, 
And bear the glorious prize away. 

Tyrants no more with cruel sway 

May blind the light of heaven-bom Mind, 

Secluded from the heavenly ray, 
In Error^s prison-house to gi'ind. 

Hail, light of Science, Genius, Truth, 

Religion, Virtue, Liberty! 
Destin'd to bless our countiy's youth! 

Thrice bless'd, if by the truth made free ! 



ODE....FOURTH OP JULY, ISSff. 

Gladly now we hail the moniing 
k Of celestial Freedom's bii'th I 
'Tis the Despot's fatal warning, 

Echouig roiuid a captive earth ! 
Slaveiy scorning, 

Pafcfiot millions now pour forth ! 



ODi;.. ..FOURTH OF JULY. 85 

Liberty to-day was bom ; 
Celebrate her birth-day morn! 

When Despair, affrighted, screaming, 

Hover'd o'er the battle-field, 
Heaven's avenging sword, bright gleaming, 

Taught the tyrant foe to yield : 
Blood, red-streaming. 

Spoke Columbia's freedom seal'd. 
Tyrants fell at Heaven's command, 
Prostrate o'er the crimson'd land. 

God of armies ! 'twas thy thunder 

Shook the rolling ocean deep ! 
All thy works are full of wonder; 

Thou canst make the battle sleep. 
Chains asunder 

Break ! — no longer captives weep : 
Let the rocket streaming high. 
Speed to kiss the circling sky ! 

Freemen ! raise your deep devotion 

To the conq'ring Power on high, 

Stilling Battle's dread commotion, 
8 



MISSIONARY ODE. 

Rending earth, and air, and sky! 
Let old ocean 
Roar, and earth's proud hills reply ! 
Let the cannon's thund'ring sound, 
Through earth, sea, and heaven rebound! 

Hark I the knell of death is tolling ! 

There's a mighty spirit fled ! 
Loud the cannon's shock is rolling;— 

Patriot Madison is dead ! 
Grief, condoling, 

O'er his tomb reclines her head: 
Liberty ! thy son is gone, 
On thy annual birth-day's dawn ! 



MISSIONARY ODE. 

See ! the new creation dawning, 
O'er the dark and howling waste! 

Brightly the millenial morning, 
Travels on with glorious haste ! 
Heavenly prospect! 



MISSIONARY ODK. 87 

Let the Church onraptur'tl f^azo! 
City of the living God, 
Shiiif vvitli f^M-iico, — our Kiiig'H abode! 

Who is this ih.it (ipwurd moveth, 

GloriouH ill th(! Saviour's iniglit, 
Leaning iijiou hiui sho lov(!th, 

Rising tlirough tlio gloom of night? 
The Jlc(]«5oincr 

Guides ili(! Churcli of his (h)Hght ! 

Let tlio ponlocostal glory, 

Saviour! on thy Churdi descend I 
Round the earth the heavenly story 

Of Inimanuel's glory send ! 
May salvation 

All h.-r palaces <lef«md ! 

'Mid liiM- walls ((f Hiroug salvation, 

And \\<'.v hcaulooiis gates of praise, 
Hindoo, Greek, and ev'ry nation, 

One [)uro song of rapture raise ! 
Holy fragrance;, 



THE ORGAN. 

Heathen temples now are falling, 
Crambling, they to dust decay, 

Hear the glorious Gospel calling, 
"Turn from EiTor's paths away! 

" Leave your idols ! 
" Rise from Death to endless Dayi" 

Lo ! the Church with heavenly graces, 

Spreads Messiah's wondrous fame .' 
And her prayers, and songs, and praises, 
Rise and burn with Heaven's pure flame! 

Hallelujah I 
Glory to Messiah's name! 
Now the City of our God, 
Shines with grace, — our King's abode ! 



THE ORGAN. 

Praise Him with stringed instruments and organs. — ^Ps. 1. 4. 

It stands sublime. 
Of towering height, and cunning workmanship : 
Whate'er deft skill can give, in bumish'd gold. 
Curious device, or fretted pinnacle. 
It wants not. Beautiful beyond compare ! 



THK ORGAN. 



Trumpets and cymbals, dulcimers and shawms, 
The classic pipe and lute, psaltery and hai-p, 
Ot" ancient days, of sweetly wondi'ous sti-ain. 
All iu full concert, or loud cadence, strike 
The soul, attun'd to melody divine ! 

The solemn organ speaks th' Almighty's praise ; 
Like man erewhile from the Creative Hand, 
Beauteous in form, wondi-ous in faculty, 
(Since in sad ruins,) until tun'd anew, 
A spu'it of fell discord dwells within, 
Which none but He that made can thrill with love, 
To vocal praise, and heavenly haraiony. 
When touch'd by the Divine Artificer, 
Pure praise henceforth shall fill this "house of prayer. " 

The breathing swell prolongs, then fades away: 
Now lives, and wai'bles soft, and sweetly clear ! 
Now the "floods clap then- hands," as when the waves 
Together dash, and toss theu' heads on high. 
"Wildly old ocean roai's ! the thunder rolls 
To solemn psalmody, whose music falls 
In tremulous vibrations on the ear; 
Moi'e soothing than the soft, Autumnal wind 
That murmurs through the dark and solemn pines, 
Along the brink of some sequester'd stream. 



90 THE NEW-YEAR- 

Strains extatic as the spirit-harps: 

It is a blessed antepast of heaven ! 

'Tis good to linger long, when heaven comes down 

To lure the spirit up to the blest gates 

Of golden glory, in the realms of song! 

There are the " harpers, harpmg with their harps !" 

Through endless years the voiceful worshippers 

Thrill the eternal spheres. O enter then 

Into these lower courts with holy awe, 

And come before Him with a joyful song ! 



THE NEW-YEAR. 

With circling sweep around earth's utmost poles, 
Adorn'd with icicles and frostwork rare, 
His frozen car chillJANUARY rolls, 
Fill'd with new hopes, and youthful prospects fair! 
To some, perchance, he brings a happy year: 
A happy New-Year may it prove to all ! 
No grim and grisly horrors may it wear ; 
No unexpected storm thy path befall; 
And holy quiet reign in Friendship's social hall ! 



ELEGY. 

DEATH OF REV. DR. M I L N O R, APRIL 8, 1845. 

Heard ye the dirge of death, that trembling woke, 
Its mouniful sighs of deep, mysterious flow, 

What time with breathing swell the organ spoke, 
And stirr'd the depths of deep-felt grief and wo? 

With mournful drapery the fane is hung, 
And o'er the consecrated place of prayer : 

It speaks to hearts with sacred soitow wrung; 
It tells the flock their Shepherd is not there ! 

Mil NOR is dead ! Beneath the greensward mound, 
In tearful hope, they lay their sleeping trust ; 

Yet Faith e'en now receives him from the ground, 
Though dust commingles with its kindred dust ! 

Oft have I seen the Pastor, meek and bland, 

When threescore years had silver'd o'er his head, 

Earnest to pluck from flame the burning brand, 
Or rouse some slumbering sinner from the dead. 



92 ELEGY... .DEATH OF REV. DR. MILNOR. 

To Calvary he points the bleeding heart, 

With sorrow torn, v^^hence drops the healing balm ! 

Celestial med'cine for each torturing smart, 
Thy free-sj)ilt life-blood, O thou dying Lamb ! 

The prodigal in bitter anguish mourns, 

That from his Father's house he e'er could i-oam: 

Fi'om his long wand'i'ings, lo ! he now^ returns, 
And straightway finds a heartfelt welcome home. 

The stammering tongue now speaks ! yea, sweetly sings ! 

From sightless eyes fast falls the glistening tear ! 
The ci'ipple to his feet with vigour springs ; 

And e'en the deaf the wondrous Gospel hear! 

Champion of Truth ! when the o'erflowing flood, 

A legion spirit-host came rushing in, 
On Sion's heights thou vahantly hast stood, 

The fearless foe of falsehood and of sin ! 

But he is gone ! The Christian Pastor sleeps ! — 
Rest, peaceful spirit ! from thy labours rest ! 

Yet, though the smitten flock in sorrow weeps. 
Dry up your tears ! He lives! — for ever blest I 



THE AURORA-BOKEALIS. 93 

Help, O Lord God ! for lo ! the godly cease I 
Merciful men are taken from the earth ! 

O may thy goodness send a large increase, 
To gather in the souls of priceless worth ! 

Mourn for the good man fall'n! The sti-icken sheep, — 
The Lord himself shall be their Guardian Guide ! 

His watchful eye a sleepless vigil keep ! 
Jehovah-jireh ! — Jesus will provide! 

What need of blazon'd monument to tell 
His deeds of fame, whose record is on high ! 

At liis lov'd name the kindling heart shall swell, 
And tears shall trickle from the orphan's eye ! 



THE AURORA-BOREALIS. 

Wonderful hues! like the mysterious bow 
Of promise to this guilty world below ! 
E'en while I gaze, they cheat the wond'ring eye, 
And change, chamelion-like, from dye to dye ! 
From the pale gz-een, to pink, of virgin glow, 
In waves of light, an intermingling flow : 



94 THE AURORA-BOREALIS. 

Shooting far down the pathway of the skies : 
Now, unknown forms of meteor fires arise ; 
Like flaming firebrands o'er heaven's dread expanse, 
They live and die, and suddenly advance ! 
Lo ! the blue vault, in curtain'd majesty, 
A bright pavilion, with fit canopy, 
Hung from the heavenly heights — magnific throne ! 
Sprinkled vi^ith stars that gild creation's zone ! 
Behold, what seems, a judgment- throne of state, 
Where powers ethereal heaven's behest await : 
Eare garniture ! whose ample train unfolds, 
Its gorgeous drapery o'er earth's utmost poles ! 
Down heaven's long steep its reddening blaze of light 
Sheds terror o'er the gloomy realms of night! 
So an enormous comet's trailing beams, 
Along the sky in awful gloxy gleams ! 
Imagination now foredates the day 
When this terraqueous sphere shall pass away; 
E'en now beholds yon heavens, a burning scroll. 
And the whole earth in flame, from pole to pole ! 
Sees the red lightning ; hears Heaven's thunder roar. 
And the dread mandate — Time shall be no more ! 



THE ADVENT. 

"On earth, peace." 

As from Epliratli's sunlit hills 
The seer casts his prophetic eye, 

By faith his raptui"ed bosom thrills, 
Beholdmg Jesus' majesty. 

The past and future thence he views ; 

An Eden lost, by Christ restor'd ; 
The Shiloh of th' expectmg Jews; 

Jesus the Saviour; Christ the Lord. 



Yet, in His sight a thousand years 
Are as the hours of swift-wing'd day — 
When lo ! the Prince of Peace appears! 

He comes! by prophets long foretold; 

Bnt though in humble guise he came, 
His goings forth have been of old ; 

From everlasting is his name ! 



96 THE ADVENT. 

His natal day the angels sing: 

In Bethlehem-judah he appears! 
The Righteous Branch; the Shepherd King; 

The promise of four thousand years ! 

A sudden flood of mystic light 
Proclaims the dayspring from on high ; 

It gilds the shades of silent night, 
And gleams o'er all the midnight sky ! 

Amid that light a voiceful quire 
Descends, with harps' mellifluous strain: 

Hymns that might Heaven's wide sphere inspire, 
Amaze the shepherds on the plain! 

"Rejoice, O earth! with joy and song! 

" Jesus is bom, the meek and mild ; 
" Joy of the sacramental throng ; 

" The world's Desire— the promis'd Child!" 



SHIPWRECK OF THE BRISTOL. 

ABOUT EIGHTY PERSONS PERISHED NEAR 
ROCKAWAY BEACH, NOV. 21, 1836. 

Prosperous, tliough oft in storms, o'er the great deep, 
The freighted ship rides toward the destin'd port, 
A weather-beaten pUgrim of the seas ! 

Wonders prophetic through the telescope. 
Strange revelations, greet the longing sight ! 
Yon azure clouds are lulls of a new wox-ld! 
Rapturous prospect ! SwelUng hills on hills 
Soften the glorious landscape ! Fluttering hearts 
Speak in the language of an unknown tongue, 
Mystic, yet full 'of meaning. Happiness 
Enhanc'd by long delay ! Long time they gaze 
In tireless luxury ; till, one by one, 
They sink to needful rest. 

Extatic dreams 
Dance round their flowery pathway. They embrace 
Long absent friends ! or walk the verdant vale 
With smiling Beauty— blest companionship ! 
O matchless picture ! not one flitting thought 



{ SHIPWRECK OK THE BRISTOL. 

Betrays the secret, that 'tis all a dream, 
Till morning glimmers f)'er the purple wave, 
Vex'd with untimely winds. Another mom. 
And your last storm is o'er ! Cheer up your hearts ! 

Ominous heralds of the coming storm, 
Scud o'er the sky with dread velocity ! 
No glimmering moon illumes tlicir midnight path; 
Hoarse are the murmurs of the mountain-waves, 
Lashing the sides of the ill-fated ship : 
While spectral shadows dart athwart the gloom ! 

Oft in the pauses of the bellowing storm, 
Moans of distress reach the attentive ear 
Of Sympathy. Lo ! an adventurous barque 
Sped by tlie Ruler of the winds and waves, 
Snatches the mourning ones from Death's dread jaws, 
The few that live to tell a dismal tale ! 

The rest embrace — the parent his lov'd ones ! 
Husband and wife ! To Heaven they pour ono prayer ! 
God of the seas ! O listen to their cry ! 
Ocean then heaves, and rolls a watery waste ' 
There is a piercing moan — and all is still. 
Save the wild dirge — the dreary ocean-chant ! 

"Whate'er the tempest spares is soon the prey 
Of human fiends — the progeny of hell ! 



THE ARSKN^T ONE 99 

Bottomless Darkness scorns th' accursed race ! 

Lo ! ill-slarr'd beauty, and tlie oi-phan child, 

On that cold sea-beat shoi'c are naked cast, 

Amid a den of thieves, of fiercer form 

Than brutes, whose generous king some pity shows. 

Muse, drop a tear for those on yonder beach! 



THE ABSENT ONE. 

One from these lonely halls is gone ! 

His seat is now a vacant spot: 
Where is its occupant? There's none : 

Lo ! here he tabernacles not ! 

They made the youthful pilgrim's bed 
Beneath the weeping-willow's shade ; 

Then "earth to earth" is o'er him said, 
And earth is gently o'er him laid! 

All earth can claim, the coffin keeps; 

His mortiil dust shall there abide : 
He is not dead ! — he only sleeps ! 

For death is but to sleep allied. 



100 MISSIONARY MUSINGS. 

Can ye forget his visage pale, 

Teai-ful and sad, with suffering worn? 

Short is his record — a brief tale ! 
A tale of man to trouble born. 

Ah ! few and evil were his years ; 

Rough o'er life's sea his vessel drave; 
Yet Faith oft brightly smil'd through tears, 

When Peace shone sweetly on the v/ave. 

Pilgrim ! behold thy better home, 
And onward urge thy weary way ; 

What though o'er dang'rous wilds thou roam ; 
Above the storm bright breaks the day ! 



MISSIONARY MUSINGS. 

He comes ! the Herald of Salvation comes ! 
How beautiful are his advancing feet, 
On thy blue mountain-tops, O classic Greece ! 
He brings deliverance from the soul's long night, 
Darkness for ages felt. And see ! it flies 
Before the Cross, whose brightly-streaming light 
Pours its effulgent beams of Gospel Dav. 



MISSIONARY MUSINGS. 

He comes, a debtor to th' inquiring Greek, 
Who seeks for wisdom; finding goodly pearls, 
Redemption, and the Wisdom from above. 
Paxil's midnight vision of a suppliant's ciy, 
"Come o'er and help us!" is once more obey'd; 
The JNIacedonian call again fulfill'd. 

His feet now travel Syra's rocky coast, 
Where myriads throng; and thence he traverses 
Th' Ionian Isles, and Continental Greece, 
Tenos, and Delos, and the Cyclades, 
Peloponnessus, and a numerous host 
Of isles or cities — deathless their renown: 
Are they not bright on the historic page ? 
Immortal splendour ! Athens, the proud seat 
Of wisdom, art, and philosophic lore. 
There he of Tarsus once encoimter'd bold. 
Stoic and Epicurean sage profound. 
Those wand'ring stars of Night ! Apostles here 
Proclaim'd the Gospel of the glorious God, 
Wielding th' Eternal Spirit's two-edg'd sword. 
Here, too, the sword of the False Prophet wav'd. 
Put up thy scimitar, red-reeking, drunk 
With blood of saints and infant innocence, 
Beneath the impious waning Crescent spilt! 



101 



102 MISSIONARY MUSINGS. 

Like Abel's blood on Cain the murderer, 

It cries for swift- wing'd vengeance to bigh Heaven ! 

The robber Turk, hell-harden'd, bleeding souls 

Despairing leaves. The Good Samaritan 

Pours in salvation's healing oil and wine. 

Insulted Greece, arise ! and fairer shine ; 
More glorious than thine Oriental pomp, 
And glitt'ring pageantiy in days of yore. 
Dim light in darkness ! proud Philosophy, 
Thy days are number' d — all thy learned lore, 
The boast of Plato and of Socrates ! 

Hail, bi'ead of Heaven! food of the fainting soul; 
Immortal riches of the mind, and bliss 
As durable as the Eternal Throne ! 
Lo ! wretchedness and poverty, erewhile 
That stalk'd this lovely land in horrid guise, 
Shall ti'iumph here no more. The Greek has found — 
Yes — he who sought for woi'ldly wisdom, finds 
Him of whom Moses and the Prophets wrote, 
Jesus, the Wisdom and the Power of God ! 
Break forth, ye wastes, and sing ! let earth's dark caves 
Catch the exulting notes of glorious joy ! 

O Smyrna, Ephesus, and Pergamos, 
Sardis, and Thyatira, and the Church 



THE PENITENT. 103 

Whose name imports the law of love fulfill'd, 

And Laodicea, neither cold nor hot, 

Ye ancient seven, unfaithful, whom the curse 

O'ertook — once brighter than th' eternal seven, 

The sparkling Pleiades that gild the sky ! — 

O might ye, sunk in midnight darkness, rise 

lu orient beauty, on Night's gloomy realm, 

Of name and praise once known through all the earth! 



THE PENITENT. 

IN IMITATION OF QUARLES. 

Ah ! there is none I have so deeply griev'd, 
And crucified so basely, and deceiv'd ! 
My cruel hands have weav'd the thorns that tore 
The brow of Him whom heavenly powers adore ! 
Yet, Saviour ! thou hast e'en deceiv'd me t# ! 
The blood I've shed shall heal thy murderer's wo ! 
Oh ! I am humbled by that gracious smile ! 
Thy condescension breaks this heart, so vile : 
I am a speechless sinner against love : 
Thy kindly-keen rebuke, the more severe doth prove ! 



THE PASTOR'S RETURN. 

Written for the Sunday Scholars of St. Ann's Church, Brooklyn, 

on the occasion of the return of the Rev. Dr. C from England 

in the ship Sheffield, wrecked near Sandy Hook, November, 1843. 

Welcome ! dear friend and pastorf 

Defended and i-estor'd : 
Let Christ, our Lord and Master 

For ever be ador'd ! 
Unceasing supplication 

Sent up to Mercy's throne, 
Returns with rich salvation, 

Abundantly pour'd down. 

When on the stonny ocean 

Thy midnight pathway lay, 
Hk still' d its wild commotion, 

Whom winds and sea obey : 
We hope thy God hath given 

Some souls that sail'd wdth thee, 
Bejoicmg stars in heaven 

To shine eternally ! 



THE pastor's return. 105 

Saviour ! look down -vvith favour 

On us, thy gather'd baud ; 
And guard thy lambs for ever, 

In Britain's favour' d land ! 
Still may thy Church, extending, 

Proclaim thy glorious grace ; 
Thy Kingdom never ending 

Its wonderful displays ! 

Earth of Thy Love is telling ; 

And the responsive throng 
In distant isles, is swelling 

Redemption's rapturous song f 
In Heaven, the wondrous story 

Shall be renew' d ! and then, 
We'll publish forth Thy glory, 

World without end — Amen ! 



THE SABBATH. 

It is the Sabbath. Holy silence reigns ! 

As when the venial earth wifti gladness smil'd, • 

And the sixth morn arose in brilliant day. 

There's heavenly language in the very air! 

Methinks extatic myriads sweetly bathe 

In this ethereal ocean of delight ! 

Now Labour rests from toils of husbandry : 

'Neath the green swath, half-hid, the glistening scythe 

Lies where the mower dropp'd it yester eve ! 

The opening rose-bud, and the deep-green grass, 

Convey the lessons of immortal hope ; 

Tokens of promise, and of mercies large : 

Voiceless, impressive preachers of the Truth? 

Yon rising orb, whose dazzling gloiy gilds 

A world, erewhile in darkness, joyous looks 

O'er his dominion: witness true, of Him, — 

Light of the world — the Sun of Righteousness. 

This peaceful stream, like a smooth mirror bright. 
Reflects the shadow of a fleeting shade ! 
There is a land where shadows pass away ! 
The spirit-land of light, and endless Rest * 



WOODMAN, SPARE THAT OAK! 



The following is a translation of a Greek paraphrase of the well- 
known lines on tliis subject. The Greek version is one of those 
Nug<£, which have often amused the leisure hours of the scho- 
lar. The English original will instantly be recognized, but had 
never been seen by the Author, at the time these verses were 
written. 



O WOODMAN ! spare that ancient tree ; 

Lop not that goodly-branching oak : 
From noontide heat it shaded me 

In youth ! Forbear the fatal stroke. 

My father by my native cot, 
In by-gone years, its scion placed; 

Let your rude axe disturb it not, 
With venerable glory graced. 

Thy sylvan music sweetly sighs, 
O oak ! when by the zephyr shook f 

How soft thy whisp'ring melodies, 

Communing with the murmuring brook J 



108 WOODMAN, SPARE THAT OAK. 

Thy trunk is Nature's hallow'd fane ! 

Full oft the diapason sweUs 
Through thy gi-een leaves, in soothing strain, 

Mingled with echoing village bells ! 

Rever'd memorial of the days 
Of boyhood ! Oft beneath thy shade 

I've gambol'd in the sportive maze, 
When summer moonbeams lit the glade ! 

Time-honor'd landmark ! mem'ries dear, 
Bloom fresh as tliine own deep-green leaves f 

By thee, in vernal prime brought near, 
How bright the legend Memory weaves ! 








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